Straight from the 80's
by juicy-calamari
Summary: A Drabble Collection of 80 mini stories, featuring your favorite things from the 80's! Rigby/Eileen-based fluff ahead.
1. Cassette Tape

**theme: cassette tape**

"Are you _serious_, Eileen?"

Eileen, soaking a dishrag in water, politely responded, "I'm pretty serious, Rigby."

She then began to scrub down a filthy plate in the sink. Rigby stood beside her, still trying to make sense of her reply.

He glanced at her sideways.

"**_Serious-serious_**?!"

Eileen couldn't help but giggle at her friend's persistence.

She placed a petite hand over her heart and recited, "I, Eileen, solemnly swear that I have never, _ever_ indeed listened to a cassette tape before in my twenty-two years of living."

She resumed wiping the grime off of the dishes. Rigby stared at her as if she had just strangled someone with her bare hands.

"How could you come from the freaking _80's_ and never have listened to a cassette?"

The mole girl just shrugged. "I listened to the radio a lot. I had heard of compact cassettes, but just never got around to using one."

Eileen swerved around to look him in the face. "And you shouldn't even be in here. If my boss found out I was letting my friends into 'employees only' parts, I could get fired," she explained, drying her soapy hands with a towel.

She flinched right as Rigby took her by the arm.

"Rigby, what are you-"

"We're going back to my place, pronto," he said, dragging her out of the Coffee Shop's kitchen.

Eileen adjusted her glasses, uneasily glancing back at the cash-register. "Rigby..." she began, trying to keep up with his pace.

"My shift isn't even over yet!"

"I'll personally tell your boss that he can suck it. _We're_ going to find and listen to one of my old cassettes back at the Park House, whether he likes it or not," Rigby replied.

Eileen rolled her eyes, but the grin on her face gave away her true thoughts on the matter.

**A/N: more Rigleen to come! C:**


	2. Rubik's Cube

**theme: Rubik's Cube**

Rigby sat on the bench, his brow furrowed in frustration.

It had been an hour since Benson dug up that old Rubik's cube in the Park House attic. He was looking for toys and such to sell to raise money for park repairments, but Rigby decided to butt in and whine for keeping it himself. Benson had been easily broken down, but only under circumstance; the deal was that if Rigby could solve the puzzle in thirty minutes, then he could have it.

His boss had obviously known the pretenses behind the bet; Rigby was a blunt idiot and there was _no way _that he'd be able to solve the Rubik's cube.

Rigby had run off with the thing to a desolate area in the park so he could concentrate.

He picked a bench to work on and began fiddling with the toy, and for sixteen minutes straight, he got absolutely nowhere.

Blue to blue? No, three reds came along with that.

What about yellow? Green, perhaps?

Rigby was about to chuck the cube at the grass-based ground. _"How come this isn't easier than when I was a kid?"_ he thought. _"Since I'm an adult, shouldn't I know how to do this stupid thing?! It's impossible, only for geeks and dweebs to figure ou-"_  
Just then, Eileen padded by, wearing a turquoise tank-top and shorts that reached just above her knees. She had earphones on, keen on finishing her jog around the park.

"EILEEN!"

Rigby jumped off of the bench and practically jumped onto the poor girl, knocking off her glasses. Eileen seemed unfazed, as her fingers immediately probed the grass for her glasses.

She looked up at him, her cheeks tinted crimson. "You could of just said 'hi Eileen, I need to talk for a second'."

He ignored her as he fumbled for the toy. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, shoving it in front of her face.

"What? Oh, yeah! I used to _love_ Rubik's cubes! I solved them all the time when I was a little girl," she replied, beginning to reminisce in her childhood.

"Good. Solve this, then."

Rigby tossed the cube to Eileen. She smiled. "Sure, Rigby!"

And just like that, her fingers went to work, turning and sliding the multicolored bricks until they all aligned with their own array of color.

Rigby just stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. "You-... you're... gah," he mumbled as she breezed through the puzzle.

Eileen, within a matter of two minutes, had solved the Rubik's cube. She handed it back to Rigby.

It gradually registered on his face that he had won the bet!

Of course, he achieved that through cheating, but... still! He won!

Rigby held the toy up in the air, triumphant at last.

"HA! Take that, you... dumb, er... chew on your own gumballs, Benson!" he yelled at the sky, retreating on his own insult.

"I guess I'll be on my way, now."

Rigby stopped, only now realizing that Eileen was still there. He looked at her back as she tried to recover her pace from jogging. He started feeling... sort of guilty. Like he had just used Eileen, without her getting remuneration.

Something tugged at his heartstrings as he hollered out for her.

"Wait, Eileen-"

She paused, then looked around. "Yeah, Rigby?"

His eyes met hers.

"I... thanks, Eileen. I may not say it very often, but I..." He trailed off, piecing words together, and avoiding a certain four-letter word. "...I really appreciate you. Honestly," Rigby said.

And with that, she replied, "I appreciate you too."


	3. Acid-Wash Jeans

**theme: acid-wash jeans**

"The _H_...?"

Eileen strode into the ballroom, a sly look on her face as she showed off her pants. She grinned at Mordecai and Rigby. "Nice, huh?"

"Yeah. It looks like the 80's just threw up all over your legs, Eilee-" Rigby was cut off by a fist flying into his gut. "Rigby, dude, be nice," Mordecai scolded his friend. To both of their surprise, Eileen laughed at Rigby's remark. "I know, right? I got this at a garage sale back in 99," she commented, gazing down at her acid wash jeans.

The pants were pale denim; splashes of sapphire coated the sides and ankles. Despite being relatively out of style, Eileen seemed to wear them well.

A cellphone ring pierced the silence.

Mordecai pulled out his cellphone, checking the caller ID. "Ah, it's Margaret!" he told Rigby and Eileen. "I guess I'll ask her when she's gonna arrive." Mordecai cupped the phone to his ear, exiting the building.

It left Rigby and Eileen alone, being swallowed up by the awkward quietness surrounding the pair.

Rigby was the first to break it.

"I wasn't really meaning to be rude to you or anything, Eileen," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"I know."

More silence.

"In that case, what in the name of god persuaded you to buy those filthy things?"

Eileen burst out in fits of snorts and giggles.

Something about the way she was laughing captivated Rigby.

It was... dare he say, cute.

"Hey, at least I've never worn parachute pants, you dork," Eileen teased.

Rigby's face started getting warm. "Who told you about that?" he asked.

"Mordecai. Must of been some 9th grade dance, huh?" Eileen, at this point, was chortling.

"**STOP TALKIIING**."


	4. Duck Hunt

**theme: Duck Hunt (suggested by MayDay21... genius prompt by the way!)**

"High score! OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!" Rigby sang as he acquired the record on his NES.

"_Pft_. That's because you're the first one to play it, stupid. And besides; you only got all those points for shooting all over the place. You have luck, not skill, dude," Mordecai said, swiping the controller from him.

"Hm hmm, you're just jealous because of my SKILL!" Rigby replied, standing on top of the sofa.

"Yeah? Get a load of this skillll.. bam," Mordecai replied as he restarted the level.

He beat Rigby's score by a landslide. "**What?!** _That's not faaair_!" he moaned, angrily socking his friend's arm. "**Cheater, cheater, pumpkin-eater**," Rigby squealed, trying to grab the remote away from Mordecai.

"Grow up, man. You can't just expect to win every time you play something (especially with your lack of talent, dude), and you can't accuse the winner of cheating just because they beat you fair and square," Mordecai replied, glaring at Rigby.

Rigby threw a fit, but soon grew weary of complaining.

He began to tread upstairs, mumbling a cluster of words underneath his breath.

After an hour of non-stop playing _Duck Hunt_, Mordecai was approaching the last round as a knock on the front door started him. He paused the game, pondering on who could be at their door at this hour.

It was none other than Eileen, wearing her work uniform (with a noticeable coffee stain on her chest). She shuffled from foot to foot on the porch.

"Sorry for coming so late, but Rigby left this at the Coffee Shop," she apologized, pulling a ten-dollar bill from her purse. "The money was on the table after you guys left, sooo..." Eileen trailed off.

Rigby peeked downstairs from the apex of the stairway, and immediately recognized Eileen.

It gave him somewhat of an idea.

"Come inside," he insisted, scurrying down stairs. The mole girl hesitated. "It is getting really late, and-"

"That's okay. It'll only take one second, I swear."

Rigby escorted her past the doorway and to the couch. "Sit down," he told her.

"Okkaaaaay." She sat.

Unable to wipe the smirk off of his face, he handed her the remote. Mordecai looked from Rigby to Eileen, uneasy.

"Dude, what are you _doing_?"

"Eileen, are you a good shot?"

"I suppose so. I went hunting a few times with my uncle," Eileen replied, her expression displaying confusion.

"That's good. Then maybe it'll help you with the game. Mordecai, did you play this level already?" Rigby asked, pointing to the TV screen. "Yeaaahhh... so?" Mordecai answered, not sure what Rigby was implying.

He turned to Eileen. "If you personally kick his butt at this level, I'll... erm... I'll go out with you, I guess."

And that was basically all she needed.

Eileen fired so many perfect shots, she nailed nearly every duck to make its way across the screen.

She beat Mordecai with a whooping score of **600,840** points.

She jumped up and down, physically shaking with joy. Rigby was pretty happy as well; he gloated about Eileen to Mordecai.

"Hah, now who's on top?"

"Still not you."

"No, A GIRL. You just got blown out of the water_ by a girl_," Rigby laughed, soaking up as much pleasure from this as he could.

"You do realize that since you got a lower score than me, you lost to a girl too, right dude?"

"But see, I didn't loose to _a_ girl," Rigby replied.

Eileen and Mordecai exchanged puzzled expressions.

"What?"

"I lost to _my_ girl."

**A/N: wow. that ending was so cheesy that I could feel _Twilight_ cringe lol**

**Stay tuned for more fluffy 80's stories! :D**


	5. Fruit Stripe Gum

**theme: fruit stripe gum**

**Smack. Smack. Smack.**

"Could you give that stuff a rest, Rigby?" Margaret asked, rolling her eyes.

"How about you give your face a rest?" he spat back at her. He continued to annoy her from the back seat.

"Shut up, Rigby. She's right; you're just being a pain," Mordecai snapped, glaring back at him.

"Man, I wasn't even talking."

**Smack. Smack. Smack.**

"Is this what I get for driving?" Margaret sighed, narrowing her eyes.

In the backseat, Rigby was crammed next to Eileen, continuing to drive everyone else insane.

**Smack. Smack. Smack.**  
Eileen had her hands on her temples, desperately trying to not develop a headache.

Rigby's impulsive chewing of his _Fruit Stripe_ gum was getting annoying.

**Smack. Smack. Smack.**

She was reaching the end of her rope.

_If she heard that chomping one more time..._

**Smack. Smack. Smack.**

"Rigby, I swear! Just at least chew with your mouth closed! I'm not asking for much, but please! **STOP**!" Eileen blurted out.

Everyone in the car was surprised, gazing at one another for some kind of answer.

Rigby was a little thrown off guard as well.

He had stopped chewing.

Eileen felt the blood rise to her cheeks, obviously embarrassed over the awkward tension she had created.

The drove home from the _Twin Peaks_ mall in silence.

Rigby, after a few minutes, carried on, as if he had forgotten that Eileen had yelled at him.

He pulled out his pack of _Fruit Stripe_ and turned to her.

"Here. Have the rest," he insisted, dumping several pieces of gum into her lap.

"I saved all of the cherry ones," Rigby told her.

"What? Why?"

"I know that they're your favorite."


	6. Metal Lunchbox

**theme: metal lunchbox**

Eileen had run out of paper bags.

She had scanned the kitchen, searched her drawers...

_Came up with nothing._

She didn't have much of an option. She had to be at work around 9, and she had to have something to carry her lunch in.

Eileen sighed, getting down on her knees and pulling a dusty metal lunchbox out from underneath her bed.

She hadn't used this lunchbox since first grade; it was encompassed by blue and pink flowers on the sides, with metallic hearts that stuck out on the top and bottom.

Sucking in her breath, she proceeded to compile food into the cramped box.

It was going to be a long day at work.

* * *

Noon was approaching.

Eileen worked the counter that day.

Business was relatively slow; there were only a few customers (not including a gang of middle-school aged boys playing videogames in the back).

The alarm in the kitchen began to ring, signaling her break. She reluctantly pulled out her metal lunchbox, hurriedly shoving food into her mouth. She looked up and saw the teenaged boys staring at her, but she managed to shrug it off.

Eileen was then startled by fits of laughter and snorts.

Before it could register in her brain what was happening, the tallest kid swiped the lunchbox from the counter, dumping its contents out on the floor.

"Hey, this looks like my little sister's lunchbox!" he sneered, observing it. "Too bad she grew out of it when she turned five."

His friends were cracking up with condemning snickers.

Eileen frowned. She knew that she couldn't lay a hand on him; she was still technically on her shift.

"Oh, whatcha gonna do bout it?_ Cry_?"

He dangled the lunchbox in front of Eileen's face. She didn't even try to get it. She knew he would just make her look stupid by pulling it away again.

She could do nothing but sit there and take the blows.

Eileen wasn't aware of who had just entered.

"_Hey_!"

But she did recognize his distinct voice.

Rigby stormed over to the boys, seething with rage. "Give her back her lunch. _Now_."

Eileen had never seen him so unbelievably pissed off before. She had to hand it to him, though... he seemed like something to fear.

"Ooh, look at this old dude," the kid said, laughing with his friends. "I think he might hit me with his cane, a-"

Rigby knocked the lunchbox right out of his grasp with one throw. He glared at the boy.

"_Beat it_," he growled, nodding to the door.

The gang scurried out, muttering things out of Rigby's earshot.

Eileen smiled. "Thanks so much, Rigby."

"Don't mention it," he told her, gathering some of her lunch in his arms.

"But really, Eileen... _a metal lunchbox_?"

**A/N: Next theme... fizzy pop! :D**


	7. Fizzy Soda

**theme: fizzy pop **

The barbecue was going better than expected.

Benson allowed them to invite some friends over for dinner (but not anyone too wild, or else they were "**_fired_**!").

Skips was cooking up hot dogs and slabs of tender chicken on the grill. The smell wafted around the park, making everyone's appetites soar.

Mordecai and Rigby used their invitations for Margaret and Eileen, of course.

Starla was just greeting Muscleman (by French-kissing) when Margaret drove up with Eileen in the passenger seat. "Margaret! Hey," Mordecai called, opening her door for her. "What's up? Need any help?"

"Desperate," Rigby mumbled as he trailed behind him.

"The food's almost ready. Come on, let me introduce you to this guy I was telling you about," Mordecai told her, grabbing her by the wrist.

Rigby was slightly annoyed by how Mordecai was all over Margaret all the time, kissing up to her and whatnot. He'd never sacrifice his dignity for some girl.

Meanwhile, Eileen was digging in the back trunk for a large box of bottles. Perked with interest, Rigby joined his friend at her side.

"Woah. What is that?" he asked, not bothering to offer his help.

She placed them on the ground, the weight of the sodas crushing the grass. Eileen pulled out a bottle and handed it to Rigby.

"WHAT? You got ahold of vintage fizzy soda?!" Eileen grinned in response.

"Wasn't that hard, actually. I got them off of Ebay, the last of its kind," she explained, taking out another _A&W_ root beer.

"Duuude." He cracked the soda open, watching the fizz bubble over. "Aw yeah," Rigby said.

Eileen did the same. "Cheers?" she asked, placing her bottle up in the air.

"Cheers," he answered, raising his glass.

_Clink._

Rigby put his mouth to the end, allowing the foamy drink to slide down his throat. He had forgotten how succulent these had tasted.

He turned to Eileen after chugging down the whole bottle.

"I think I love you."


	8. Coca-Cola Rugby Shirt

**theme: _Coca-Cola_ rugby shirt**

Winter erupted throughout the month of December.

He had almost forgotten that he had ever owned a _Coca-Cola_ rugby shirt.

With an assortment of pastel colors and wide stripes, he had grown attached to wearing it whenever it got chilly. And this year's winter just happened to be brutal.  
Rigby went through the pile of clothes that he always slept under; wrinkled, but still washed.

He just so happened to come across it, and figured it would provide _some_ warmth.

Mordecai, who had picked out a scarlet sweater, suggested that they get coffee before completing their park duties.

Rigby, wanting to procrastinate with work as much as possible, agreed vigorously.

The duo crossed the street to get their daily dose of caffeine.

Surprisingly, inside the coffee store felt even colder than outside. Rigby lowered his sleeve to reach over his fingertips.

"_Man_," he remarked, looking around. "It's like a freezer in here."  
Mordecai nodded his head.

"It must be, like, at least 10 degrees in here, dude," he replied, picking out a table for the two to sit at.

Margaret stopped by, wearing a hoodie over her short-sleeved work garb. "Let me guess- the usual?"

"Yeah. How'd you guess?" Mordecai followed up on his statement with fits of awkward laughter. Rigby rolled his eyes.

"You two look like you're in the mood for coffee," she joked, scribbling down on her notepad. "Eileen will be out with your coffees in a sec," Margaret informed them, walking into the kitchen.

Rigby nudged his friends' shoulder. "Dude, dude," he said. "Remember that episode of That's My Television from last night?"

"Oh... Oh yeah, man!" Mordecai exclaimed. "That one part with the cat was hilarious, dude."

"Why can't _all_ sitcoms be that funny, man?"

"H-hey guys. Here's you-r c-coffee," Eileen interrupted, carrying two steaming mugs.

"Eileen... why aren't you wearing a jacket or anything? Aren't you cold?" Mordecai asked.

She stood before them in her work attire. Just her short-sleeves and skirt. Her fingernails bared a blueish-grey tone to them, while the rest of her skin was pale. She was shivering uncontrollably.

"Oh, w-well... yeah, I g-guess," Eileen replied, rubbing her arm. "I f-forgot my jacket up at m-my mom's house."

"So? How come you didn't just drive up there and get it?" Rigby asked her.

"B-by the time I noti-iced it was missing, I was-s late for work," she explained. "Besides, l-long drive."

"Huh. Sorry to hear that, Eileen, " Mordecai said, then taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah. R-really sucks." Her arms folded, she cruised back into the kitchen.

Rigby watched her leave, frowning. "Er..." he started, referring back to Mordecai.

"I have to.. go ask Eileen for... a sandwich. Yeah. Sandwich."

Mordecai smirked. "Yeah, dude. Go to your sandwich."

Rigby passed the counter, entering through the main doors into the kitchen. Eileen was running her hands under a stream of hot water, biting her bottom lip.

She turned to the raccoon. "Oh! R-rigby!" she exclaimed, turning off the water. "Do you need something e-else?"

"No. But you need something else," he told her, peeling off his rugby shirt.

Eileen stared in puzzlement. "I-i'm sorry?"

He then proceeded to toss the shirt to her.

"R-rigby," she said, looking at the long-sleeve shirt. "Are y-you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine," he replied, waving her off.

"Besides, I have fur made of steel. I don't get cold!"


	9. Don't Stop Believing

**theme: Don't Stop Believin'**

"We've already been around here like _9 times_. It feels like we're just going around in circles."

Rigby, sitting in the passenger's seat, was rapidly clicking and pressing down the buttons of his handheld, pumped to full volume.

"I swear, if I see that stupid tree _again_..." "Don't worry, Rigby," Eileen insisted, making a left turn.

"We'll be there soon enough."

Rigby rolled his eyes and converted his attention back to the game.

Pausing momentarily, Eileen's pupils darted sideways.

"Do... uh," she began. "Do you mind if I turn on the radio?"

"_Psh_. Whatever," he scoffed, not looking up. "As long as you don't make me loose my concentration."

Her hand outstretched for the dial.

Green light.

She didn't have much consent with the station (or the song, for that matter) as her fingers flew back to grasping the leather wheel.

As the mini van lurched forward, _Journey_'s most recognizable song, _Don't Stop Believing_, began to blare through the speakers, startling them both.

After toning it down a notch, Eileen squealed, "This is my favorite song. Period!"

Rigby, on the other hand, was exceedingly annoyed of the music that filled her car to its brim.

"I've heard better," he commented, trying to ease his focus back onto his videogame.

_"Strangers, waiting... up and down the boulevard,"_ Eileen sang along, in sync with the 80's hit single.

"Come on, Rigby!" she shouted over the roar of the speakers, trying to entice him. "You know you want to!"

"I think I'll pass." He scooted to the edge of his seat, pressing up against the door.

"Your loss," Eileen said as she resumed singing.

_"Streetlight, people... living just to find emotion!"_

Rigby bit his lip, but didn't say anything.

_"Hiding... somewhere in the niiiiighht!"_

Rigby sighed, setting the console down in his lap. During the guitar riff, he decided that she worn him down enough. He joined her in the following verse.

_"Don't stop, believing!"_ the two sang in unison.

**A/N: Don't Stop Believing belongs to Journey, of course. Sorry I haven't posted in a week! Too caught up in playing Portal 2 :P**

**Anyways, is anyone else excited for "Simon and Marcy" and "A Bunch of Full-Grown Geese" airing this Monday?!**

**PS- Just earned a state-wide prize for short stories I submitted! huzzah~**


	10. Caramel Ice Cream Sauce

**theme: caramel ice cream sauce**

"Got some vanilla ice creeeeaaam!"

Mordecai carried out a carton of ice cream, along with a scooper, hurriedly laying them out on the coffee table. He plopped down on the couch next to Margaret on the couch.

"I'll get the bowls!" Eileen volunteered, scurrying into the kitchen.

Rigby was flipping through channels, bored out of his mind. Mordecai glared at the raccoon.

"Dude, you _did_ get the chocolate sauce for the ice cream, right?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, man. 'Course I got sauce," he replied, tilting his head back.

"Did you get the _chocolate_ sauce?"

Rigby didn't respond at first.  
"Er... I might of not..." "Spit it out, dude."

"I might of gotten caramel instead..." Rigby trailed off, still floating mindlessly from channel to channel.

"Rigby! That's just great. Not only did you _not_ get the flavor I told you to buy, but you got a crappy flavor as well."  
Mordecai reached across Margaret and snatched the remote from Rigby's hand.

"Give it back, man!" he exclaimed, squirming around on the couch. "I was almost watching something!"

The TV abruptly flashed off.

Eileen had retrieved the bowls, pondering over each of their expressions.

"What's going on?"

"Rigby screwed up the one thing he was supposed to do today," Mordecai answered, getting up.

"I guess I'll just run out to the store or something."

"I'll go with you," Margaret piped up, wanting to abort this awkward situation as quickly as possible.

Eileen remained where she was standing.

"Fine. All of you can go get your precious chocolate sauce, while I have this caramel all to myself!" Rigby hollered after them.

He burst into the fridge, scanning its contents as he heard the front door slam. "Hm, hmm!" Rigby pulled out a bottle from underneath the previous nights' leftovers.

He retreated back to the couch, where he struggled to open the carton of vanilla ice cream.

"Would you like some help?" Eileen offered, taking a seat beside him.

He hadn't given her presence much thought, but he grudgingly handed over the container.

She managed to crack it open, giving her friend a slight grin.

"You know, you're not the only one that likes caramel ice cream sauce."

"I'm not?" Rigby questioned, forking over the scooper and a single porcelain bowl.

"Nope. Personally, I consider it to be the flavor of nostalgia. You see, my mom used to buy vanilla ice cream for me all the time. We both adored caramel sauce, even making some on occasion," Eileen explained, prying out a scoop.

"Huh." Rigby feigned disinterest as he picked at a loose string in the cushion.

"When Mordecai used to sleep over at my house, we always had ice cream of some kind. I remember constantly wanting to have caramel sauce, but not being able to have any because Mordecai and _Don_ preferred stupid chocolate," he reflected, emphasizing his brother's name.

"Tough break," Eileen replied, placing a full bowl in his hands. "Here. Maybe this will cheer you up a bit," she said, grabbing the bottle from the coffee table.

"You can lather on as much sauce as you want to," she added with a slight smile.

Eagerly, Rigby snapped off the lid and poured nearly half of the container onto the top of his ice cream, watching it gradually melt down the sides.

Soon enough, there were only a measly four portions of his dessert that weren't saturated in caramel.

Eileen snorted, her shoulders bouncing up and down.

"You want a little ice cream with that sauce?"

**A/N: next theme... golden raspberries! :'D SOAK IN THE FLUUUUFF~**


	11. Golden Raspberries

**theme: golden raspberries**

"Holy crap! What are those things?"

Rigby dashed away from the cart and towards the fruit section. Eileen looked up, only to find him off wandering the isles _again_.  
She tucked away a grocery list in her purse and thrust the cart forward, trying to keep up Rigby's bustling pace.

"Hey, wait up!" she exclaimed, scanning each row for the raccoon.

He was, however, shoveling through an assortment of berries; their colors ranging from a toxic red to a weary ebony. Coming across something seemly unusual, he stopped in his tracks and gazed in amazement at what he had encountered. Grasping the plastic container in his grubby hands, he jiggled it around and watched the raspberries collide with one another.

Eileen heaved the cart over to Rigby. "There.. you... are," she puffed between gasps of air.

"Eileen, man, look at these!" He jostled the package before her excitedly.

Eileen stared in confusion.

"Yes Rigby, those are _raspberries_-"

"I know!" he interrupted. "But look at the _color_ of the raspberries."

Her eyes retreated back to the berries.

She observed the latescent texture of the unusually scrubby fruits. The honey-tinted color that the raspberries wore was indeed odd.

"I suppose they're yellow," Eileen concluded.

"You're saying that like you see yellow freaking raspberries everyday!"

"They aren't quite that uncommon, actually. You see, even though they're different in appearance, they still retain the distinctive taste of the red and bl-"

"Ugh. You're boring me, Eileen," Rigby groaned.

"My point is, I've seen them before. And you've got to stop wandering off to every little thing that perks your interest!" Eileen exclaimed, slightly pushing the shopping cart forward.

"Benson gave us a list of stuff to get, _remember_? Plus, he told us to be back within an hour."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," he replied. "But just cause _you've_ seen golden raspberries doesn't mean that everyone else has too."

He proceeded to add the container of raspberries to their inventory.

"Okay then, Rigby," Eileen said, rolling her eyes. "You're going to spend money, that your boss gave you for Mordecai's birthday party, for your own self-indulgence?"

"Stop using terms I don't understand."

"Then stop acting like a child, Rigby. You know you're my friend and all, but you really get on my nerves sometimes." She put the raspberries back on its shelf and pulled out the crumpled list.

He scowled for a second, but then uncomfortably shifted from foot to foot.

"I guess you sort of have a point," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, Eileen."

Eileen didn't reply.

She headed towards the lines of people who were waiting impatiently to check out.

Wrenching a wad of cash out of her pocket, she handed it to Rigby.

"I forgot to get some milk for my apartment," she informed him. "I'll be back in a minute."

* * *

Rigby unloaded the cart into the trunk of her car when Eileen bound towards him, carrying a paper bag in her left hand.

She placed the bag on top of the mounds of groceries in her trunk.

"Could you do me a favor and put this back?" she asked, gesturing towards the shopping cart.

"I'll go and start the car."

"Alright then."

Making sure she got into the driver's seat, the bag peaked his interest.

He reached into it, pulling out its contents.

Rigby grinned.

She had gotten golden raspberries.


	12. Water Pistols

**theme: water pistols**

"_Psssst_. Eileen," a familiar voice whispered from underneath the inflatable pool toy.

She turned around. "Rigby?"

He reached out and swiped her arm, dragging her underneath the floaty.

They both wound up poking their heads through the hole in the center.

"I picked you to be my partner in crime," he informed her, grinning.

"What?"

Rigby revealed to have two water guns in his free paw.

"I didn't pick Mordecai because he's being sort of a killjoy today," he explained, giving her a gun.

"So the best way to deal with killjoys is to get them _aaaallll_ wet."

Rigby snickered. "They'll never see it coming," he added.  
Eileen positioned her goggles to her hairline, leaving redish circles to encompass her eyes.

She plunged her pistol into the water, pumping it full of ammo.

"Let's do this," she said.

Rigby and Eileen dove back underwater and headed towards the deep end.

Not so far away, Mordecai had his back turned, sitting on the edge of a pool chair. He was babbling noisily to Thomas.

"Here's our chance," he murmured, situating his water pistol to Mordecai's back.

Eileen mirrored his actions.

"Ready..." he started, placing his finger on the trigger. "Aim... **FIRE**!"

Water shot out of both the guns, managing to soak Mordecai from head to toe.

He turned around.

"Rigby?! Ugh, I should of known. Look, all I said was I'd play _Dig Champs_ with you tomorrow. Stop being such a baby about it."

"Whatever, man. I don't even need you to have fun!"

Rigby took a deep breath and ducked back under. Eileen supposed that she was to follow him, so she did the same.

He retreated to a corner of the pool, rising up for more air.

Eileen looked a bit worried.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered. "It's just..."

"What?"

"Sometimes Mordecai just straight out refuses to do stuff with me. He tells me to be 'responsible' and all that crap. I just miss how it used to be when we were kids," he explained. "And now he's growing up, and I'm still behind."

"Rigby," Eileen replied, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Who said that Mordecai was moving on without you? He'd never do that. Just because he wants to be mature on occasion doesn't mean he wants to stop being your friend," she told him.

"Plus, you'd have me to be for you, too."

She offered him a smile.

Rigby eased his way out of the corner.

"I guess you're right," he admitted.

"You know how I can thank-you, Eileen?"

"Hm?"

Rigby pulled the water pistol back out and squirted, saturating Eileen's rose-tinted bathing suit.

She laughed, spraying him with water as well.


	13. Strobe Lights

**theme: strobe lights**

(takes place during the episode "_Access Denied_")

Rigby and Eileen hastened through the back door, entering into what seemed like a vast cluster of people.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time; either swigging down exquisite alcohol or flailing their bodies along the dance floor.

The room was illuminated by multi-colored spotlights, providing enough light for one to guide their way around the drunks and ravers.

A stray elbow flew into Rigby's side.

"Hey!" he spat, rubbing his appendage. "_Watch it_!"

"Rigby, the cake's over here," Eileen hollered over the roar of music.

She lead him through hordes of people to where the remaining portion of chocolate cake was.

They slid into opposite sides of a booth.

Rigby wasted no time; he fumbled for a paper plate and fork, eagerly shoveling the dessert onto it.

He began to gouge down the cake, managing to smear the frosting around his mouth.

"Anks Ereen," he said, spitting crumbs out as he talked.

"No problem."

In a matter of seconds, the spotlights started to dim until they were off.

"OH! The strobe lights! I almost forgot they were going to use them tonight," Eileen said, caught up in the obscure atmosphere of the club.

One by one, a series of strobe lights were turned on, exhilarating the dancing crowd even more.

The music pumped up to full volume as the flickering of the strobe lights became frequent.

Rigby gulped down the last of the cake.

He looked across the table at Eileen.

"You know..." he began, raising his tone to the blare of the speakers.

"It may be the sugar talking, but I'm really in the mood for some strobin'."

"Wanna dance?" he asked her, scooting out of his seat.

"Sure!" Eileen exclaimed, joining him.

"Just as long as you can party as hard as me."

While Margaret and Mordecai were waltzing in the moonlight right outside, Rigby and Eileen were having the time of their lives on the dance floor of _The Box._

**A/N: yesss finally done! Sorry it took so long! I think I mainly wrote this one to show the more-than-subtle differences between Mordecai and Margaret's relationship and Rigby and Eileen's. While one can be gushy and romantic, the other just typically involves being close friends and having fun.**

**replies-**

**MayDay21: Thanks for all of your reviews so far, man! I really appreciate it. And don't worry friend, the jelly shoes and Madonna were added to my list of prompts. C:**

**StarXMarr: Thank-you! What's your user on Hatena, by any chance?**

**Smilehehe97: Thanks for the reviews! I enjoy reading them!**

**DisneyStar4Ever: Thanks man! I enjoy Rigby and Eileen's friendship very much, and I think the majority of these chapters reflects on nothing but friendship fluff. It'd be a little out of character if they were all _into_ each other..**

**Thank-you to all the rest of my reviewers! I look forward to reading more c:**

**PS- The 100th episode was gold, I tell you.**


	14. Slap Bracelet

**theme: slap bracelet**

Eileen stuffed her wallet back inside of her jeans pocket.

She sighed, looking longingly at the door.

Maybe he wasn't going to show up.

Maybe he was purposely not going to show up because of the day.

She slid into a booth positioned near the windows.

A slight pain in the pit of her stomach reminded her that she had skipped lunch. Eileen ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of fries. On occasion, she would glance out the translucent wall next to her, her heart plunging when she saw no sign of Rigby.

She started fidgeting with a strand of her well-combed auburn hair. It was beginning to look like he wasn't coming.

Margaret eventually strolled over to her booth.

"You okay, Eileen?" she asked, proceeding to look around. "Where's Rigby?"

"He isn't here. I tried calling him, but he wouldn't pick up. I guess he just forgot or something."

Margaret frowned, placing the tray of steaming food on her table.

She took a seat across from Eileen.

"Look Eileen, I've known Rigby for a longer time than you have. He does stuff like this... constantly. It's just... well, Rigby," she explained, a somber expression crossing her face.

"Are you sure he's the one?"

"I don't know." Eileen took a bite out of her sandwich, strands of cheese dangling out of her mouth. Margaret decided that it was time to get back to work and pulled herself up.

She grabbed the plastic tray.

"I just hope you find someone," she murmured, traveling into the kitchen.

* * *

Eileen dabbed her chin, wiping off clinging bread-crums.

She gather her things and left a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.

Rigby had stood her up.

She should of seen this coming.

Eileen slammed the glass door on her way out.

After all, he _was_ R-

Her thoughts were interrupted by yelling. Her eyes skimmed the street.

She turned around, realizing that the hollering was sourcing from the Park entrance.

"Eileen! Hey! Over here!"

Eileen adjusted her glasses before dashing across the street. An ebony beak poked out of the metal bars of the fence.

"Mordecai?" Eileen questioned, taking a step closer.

The awkward bluejay sighed in relief. "Finally, I got your attention. Didn't you hear me screaming your name?"

Eileen shrugged. "I was kind of thinking about... things," she replied, gripping one of the bars in-between her stubby fingers.

"About Rigby... he says he's _really_ sorry. He overslept, and when he woke up at two, he was freaking out," Mordecai told her.

"Personally, I don't think I've ever seen him that panicky before. Anyway, Rigby tried to get out of work, but Benson yelled at him and stuff, telling him to get back to work. Rigby is _still_ scrubbing toilets."

He thrust his arm between a space in the fence. Opening his fist, he revealed to be holding a red slap bracelet.

"This is from him." He began to back up.

"Catch ya later, Eileen," Mordecai called, resuming raking the leaves.

Eileen observed the gift, flipping it over. There on the back was an inscribed message, written sloppily in Sharpie marker.

**Eileen-**

**Long story short, work sucks. Sorry for missing our thing. Happy V-day (can't spell out the whole thing)**

**~Rigby**

A smile crept onto her face as her eyes scanned the last sentence.

Even though the message was a garbled, squished-together mess, the gesture was still sweet.

Eileen tilted her head, gazing beyond the fence and the freshly-cut grass to where the Park House stood still.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rigby."

**A/N: I forgot to tell you guys that I just got a tumblr! If you want contact with me, it's wet-monsoon . tumblr . com**


	15. VHS tape

**theme: VHS tape**

"What about this one?" Eileen pulled the tape out from underneath the cluster.

She flipped it around in the palms of her hands.

"_The Grandfather Massacre_?! Oh man, this is my favorite horror movie of all time!" she exclaimed, quickly popping it into the VCR.

"You've seen it before, right Rigby?" Eileen inquired, setting up the film. He uncomfortably shifted to the other side of the couch.

"Yeah... lots of times," he insisted, swiping a round pillow off of their shag carpet.

"Good. Then you'll know when a 'limb-chopping' scene is coming as opposed to you watching it for the first time."

"_Eeeguh_," Rigby squealed, pressing the pillow harder against his chest.

Eileen raised the remote. "Ready?" she asked, curling up on the couch beside him.

"Yeah," Rigby replied uneasily.

He didn't want her to think he was some kind of wuss or something.

The TV screen flashed white and blue, cutting to the opening of the gory flick. Rigby whimpered, scooting closer to Eileen.

He was still holding the pillow in his grasp.

As soon as the blood-red text of the beginning faded away, he began to tremble.

After a couple of minutes of constant quivering, Eileen decided that he had had enough. She rose out of her seat and headed over to the VCR.

Calmly, she ejected the VHS tape, tossing it back into the pile of old movies.

"What are you doing?"

"Rigby, I could feel you shaking during the _credits_. If you were scared, you should have just told me," Eileen answered.

"You're right... next time, I should pick the movie," Rigby added, grinning.

**A/N: WAAAH! did anyone else see the RS panel at Wonder-Con?!**

**That one question with Eileen and Rigby killed me.**

**Question: Have you ever thought about Rigby doing something romantic? Like asking Eileen out?**

**William Salyers (Rigby): I think it'd be interesting to see, but what would that even look like?!**

**Sam Marin (using Muscleman voice): He's never going to do it.**

**William Salyers: DON'T PUSH ME**

**and the advice MM gave to Rigby about asking out Eileen was_ hilarious_**


	16. Waterbed

**theme: waterbed**

"This hotel _blows._ I'm telling you, man. It looks like they haven't replaced their own furniture since 1989," Rigby complained, trailing behind his towering friend. Mordecai fumbled with the keys and plastic room card in his grasp.

He cautiously maneuvered past each door, scanning the room number and constantly comparing it to his.

"It could be worse, dude."

"How?"

"This place could be themed like the 70's," Mordecai remarked, stifling a grin.

"Aw man. The 70's are even worse than the 80's," Rigby commented.

"Aha!" Eagerly, Mordecai scanned the room card with a quick flick of his wrist, opening the door.

The duo shuffled inside, curious about what was in store for their brief stay.

Rigby scowled, angrily shaking his head.

"Is this for real?" he asked, gesturing towards the Guns N' Roses album laying on the nightstand. He looked around once more.

"A lava lamp? Shag carpet? This sucks!" Rigby exclaimed, with a kick at the rug.

"No kidding. Looks like they're living in the past, I guess. Why else would they still have all this junk in 2013?"

A knock at the door frazzled Mordecai and Rigby, startling them both.

"Hello? Mordecai?" A familiar voice came through the door.

Mordecai's face lit up. He ran to the door. "Margaret, Eileen! Glad you guys could make it," he told her.

Margaret shimmied her way past him. "Wow. Nice place you got here," she told him.

"Yeah! The best! Ahaha_aaaaa_..." Mordecai trailed off in his own awkward laughter.

"Mind if I give you a tour of my and Eileen's deluxe sweet?" she questioned, tugging at his hand. "No! I don't mind at all."

Margaret pulled him out of the room and into the hallway.

Eileen stood motionless in the doorway. "Hey Rigby."

"Sup. Come on in," he replied, motioning towards the bed. He took a seat at the edge. The whole bed began to ripple, disturbing the neatly folded sheets.

"Oh no," he muttered. "No, no! Oh _H_ no, I'm not sleeping on this crap!"

"What's the matter?" Eileen asked, wondering over to him.

"This is a waterbed. Man I hate these things. I had one when I was a kid, but it started leaking within the month that I used it. My parents had to throw it away," he exclaimed, rising off the bed.

"Bummer. I've always liked them," Eileen said, plopping down in the center of the waterbed. She spread out her arms and legs.

"So calming and serene," she moaned.

Rigby gave her a puzzled look.

"Come on, Rigby. You knooow you want tooo," Eileen sang.

She flopped over on her back, causing the rest of the bed to vibrate.

Rigby shrugged, figuring that if the bed popped with the two of them, he could probably get a real bed as a replacement.

He squeezed next to the mole girl, curling his bushy tail around his leg.

"Am I supposed to feel happy right about now?"

"Do you _want_ to feel happy?" "I guess," Rigby muttered, his body sinking into the top fabric of the bed.

"If you say so," Eileen answered, twisting onto her side to face him.

"Wait, wait- what are you-?"

He was abruptly cut off by her hands flying towards him. "Wh- hahat are you doing- haha," Rigby spluttered out, trying to swat away her hands. "Sto- haahap that!"

Eileen persisted to tickle him.

"You... hhah are so.. hahaha _weird_!"

The two began playfully tickling each other, one trying to be dominant over the other. The small 80's-esque suite was filled with the sounds of their laughing, mixed in with the occasional squeal.

Rigby squirmed out of her reach and pinned Eileen down to the waterbed. "Ha! Now I'm on top!" he exclaimed.

He froze as he heard footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Rigby looked up to see Mordecai and Margaret positioned in the doorway, staring at the couple on the bed.

"Y'know, there's a 'do not disturb sign' right here.." Mordecai told them, jostling the doorknob.


	17. Light Brite

**theme: _Light Brite_**

He had flinched, being abruptly awoken by the voice over the intercom pounding in his ears.

_"Attention shoppers! The Twin Peaks Mall will be closing in ten minutes. Please complete your shopping within the rest of our open period. Thank-you and happy holidays!"_

He jolted upwards, his head rolling each way.

Hordes of people were hurrying about, dragging heavy shopping bags and thrusting forward baby strollers, racing to the glass exit doors. The smell of perspiration and perfume mixed in the air, creating an unpleasant odor wafting throughout the busy corridors.

Gasping, he furrowed through a passing wave of shoppers and pressed his face against a window. Squinting, he could make out all of the empty boxes and a slew of torn up wrappers discarded among the vacant shelves. The floors were filthy; muddy footprints trekked around the tiles. He backed away from it, panic rising in his chest. He had really done it this time.

Of course, he had held off his Christmas shopping until the day before... who would expect better?

Rigby had been eased into buying a gift for Eileen by Margaret; she had gone on about how she was spending her entire year savings on a present for him and how she knew he'd love it. Rigby had at first rolled his eyes, ignoring the obvious impel of guilt, but it soon wore him down and he surrendered.

"Alright, I'll get her a stupid Christmas present," he had growled at Margaret. "But don't think that I'm getting _you_ a present."

Procrastinating until Christmas Eve, he had dropped by the Twin Peaks Mall after enduring a long and teeth-grinding day at work.

Rigby had only sat down in a lounge chair for a _second..._

He detested himself for the moment. How could he have been so stupid? Now everyone had cleaned the entire mall of its inventory and heading home for the much-anticipated holiday.

And where was he? Stuck in the mall, minutes proceeding its close, on Christmas Eve, with nothing to buy.

Rigby began to scurry on all fours, searching tirelessly for something that he could buy within his price range.

_Anything._

And finally, he spotted a beige box perched on the ridge of a shelf. He darted inside, making sure to swipe it before anyone else got ahold of it.

Rigby read the title, printed in bold across the top.

**_Light Brite!_**

Quickly deciding that a children's toy would be better than nothing, he retrieved a handful of dollars, compressed from being in his hoodie pocket.

Rigby slapped the box and money on the counter for check out.

The cashier stared blankly at the raccoon.

"Would you like that wrap-"

"No, just let me buy it already," he snapped, uneasily checking his wristwatch._ 11:56_

The cashier scowled, grumpily exchanging the money. "Your change, sir," he spat, flicking a dime at Rigby.

"I've gotta get out of here," Rigby moaned, grabbing the Light Brite and heading outside.

* * *

It had been ten hours since he had written the message.

He hastily blanketed the box in wrapping paper, messily sticking duct tape on to hold the seams together.

Mordecai looked over his shoulder. "Dude, ready to go to the Coffee Shop?" he asked, grinning. "I've got my gift for Margaret. She might just ask me to marry her on the spot!"

"Yeah, yeah," Rigby muttered under his breath, carrying the wrapped present in his hands.

"What did you get last night?"

"How about a present that's so unbelievably awesome, you'll cry yourself to sleep tonight?"

Mordecai scoffed. "I'm sure you got something like that for ten bucks, dude."

**"Stop talking!"**

* * *

Eileen felt the warmth of her best friend's presence beside her on the bench.

She shivered slightly as a cold gust of wind drifted by. Her hands retreated to her pockets. "When do you think they'll be here?" she questioned.

"Looks like now!" Margaret exclaimed, pointing ahead. Mordecai and Rigby, both having something in their grasps, waited until the cars ceased to zoom by so they could cross the street.

"Merry Christmas, Margaret," Mordecai said, handing her a paper baggie. He shifted uncomfortably. "I know it's not much, but..."

"I love it! Thank-you so much!" Margaret shrieked, pulling out a silvery necklace. She smiled. "I'll wear it all the time."

Rigby kicked some snow off the curb with the side of his foot.

Eileen motioned him to come. He sauntered over, a look of defeat plastered to his face. Rigby tossed the box to Eileen.

After fumbling for it, she leaned over and retrieved a large container from her side of the bench, holding it out for him.

The wrapping paper was exquisite; folding perfectly over the faces of the box.

"Go ahead and open yours first," insisted Eileen.

He peeled the paper off, revealing the back of a boxed-in personal deep fryer. He squealed.

"Woah! Thank-you soo much, Eileen!"

"No problem," she replied, beginning to pick at her gift. "May I?"

"Uh... sure..."

Opening it, she gasped. She didn't comment on it, though. "Take it out of the box..." Rigby told her.

Following his direction, she tore open the duct tape seal and peeked inside. Multicolored pegs had been arranged on there to form a message.

_Marry X-Mas_

_Eileen_

"That is so sweet!" she exclaimed, her voice starting to break.

"I know... I'm quite the charmer."


	18. Leg-Warmers

**theme: leg-warmers**

Eileen had torn off the cardboard top as soon as it was in her possession.

Vintage warmers, straight from the 80's. She had excitedly purchased them online once she had saved up enough money. Putting the balled-up wads closer to her face, she inhaled that scent that only fresh clothing off of_ Amazon_ would provide. Carefully, Eileen stuck her hand in and slowly pulled the thick cloth out, revealing dazzling new leg warmers. Squealing, she slumped over a chair to kick off her flip-flops and slip into the leg-warmers.

The fuchsia-embroidered fuzz hugged her ankles as she pulled them to her knees.

Eileen, feeling like she knew just how to complete the mood, dove straight into her purse to retrieve her MP3 player. She slid it into her shorts' pocket and listened to the music blasting out of her headphones.

And with that, the mole began to sway back and forth in her apartment.

That sway rocketed itself into a twirl. And a bounce. And a jerk.

Soon enough, Eileen was dancing all around in what little space she had of a home.

As the song was approaching the last verse, a slow suspicion made its way into her head. She twisted her head towards the doorway, where Rigby was standing, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

Eileen quickly wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. Her face was red due to an unnerving mix of exercising and embarrassment.

"Did you forget that you invited me over here?"

"Uh..."

"That's okay, I probably would of too," he chuckled, shuffling into her apartment. "Sorry for barging in and stuff, but I rented this awesome movie and we just hafta watch it!"

"Yeah! Sure thing," Eileen huffed, setting down her MP3 on the rim of her couch.

"Oh, and one more thing before I forget," he said, looking up from his backpack.

"Huh?" Eileen asked.

"You're a really cool dancer. Can you teach me sometime?"

**A/N: Sorry I haven't been updating that much! Testing's this week. But rest assured, more is on the way...**

**that Mordecai/Margaret kiss was _reaaallly_ cute, by the way.**


	19. Hot Water Bottle

**theme: hot water bottle**

"Rigby, are you sure you're handling that correctly?" Eileen asked.

She untied her sleeping bag, leveling out the folds after neatly laying it down. "Yeah, yeah- Don't sweat it, Eileen," he replied, carefully taking the hot water bottle out of his sack.

He scoffed. "When have I ever been known to screw things up?" Eileen giggled.

She slipped into her sleeping bag, and gazed at the scenery that encircled them.

Rigby slid the hot water bottle under his blanket and joined her. "Woah," he commented, admiring the stars suspended in the night.

"This looks like something you'd see in HD."

"Only it's the real thing," Eileen replied, smiling. He began to return the warm offering, but was surprised by her hand being placed over his. Muscles in his arm started to tense up.

Uncomfortable, Rigby scooted his sleeping bag inches away from hers. Until, suddenly...

"Aah!" Rigby hollered, frantically unzipping his bag.

"What?"

Eileen bolted up, displaying genuine concern for her friend.

"Hothothot!" he proclaimed, gesturing to his back.

Somehow, he had overfilled the hot water bottle, causing it to leak through the cheap fabric of the sleeping bag.

"Rigby! I asked if you needed help!" she exclaimed, immediately peeling off his long-sleeved shirt.

"How the heck was I supposed to know that it would overflow?" he squealed back at her.

Eileen didn't respond as she guided Rigby over to the campfire to better observe his injuries.

Even though the flickering embers were dull, she could definitely tell that it wasn't pretty. His entire back appeared to be scalded. Eileen sighed and headed towards her backpack.

"Eileeeen," Rigby moaned. "It hurts- really,_ really_ badly."

"I know it does," she said in a soothing tone.

She pulled out a miniature kit, propping it up beside her backpack.

"Good thing I remembered to bring this."

A long spool of bandage, along with some container of cream, was sorted out.

"This might sting a bit," Eileen warned, scooping out goo with two fingers.

He winced as she tenderly rubbed his back, slightly groaning at first.

But soon enough, he became accustomed to it.

Eileen ripped off a portion of bandage and wound it around Rigby's chest.

Rigby glanced up at her, pleasantly shocked. "You handled that really well."

"I babysat when I was a teenager, so I'm used to handling whiny little kids and their boo-boos."

Rigby scowled at her, but soon gave way to a chuckle.

"Thanks, Eileen."

"Not a problem. Just let me fill up the water bottle next time, okay?"


	20. Magna-Doodle

**theme: magna-doodle**

The four friends were wandering the neighborhood, scanning items on display. They came across an assortment of things; lamp shades, beanie babies, cheerleading trophies, doormats, towels... you name it.

Halfway around, they decided to split up and tour their own yard sales.

Change jingled around in Rigby's pocket as he tried to keep up with Eileen's pace. Nothing, so far, had caught his eye.

As they approached the next sale, Eileen squealed. She tugged at Rigby's wrist and pointed.

Following in her noisy direction, Rigby soon discovered what had made her scream.

It was an old Magna-Doodle, blanketed in dust. Marks layered the sides, hinting that it had been used to its full extent.

"I used to have one of these!" Eileen explained, grasping the magnet pen.

She scribbled it around, to see if it still worked. Rigby rolled his eyes.

"Why would you spend money on that ratty thing?"

"Because," Eileen answered, standing up. "You can do all kinds of things with it. Like write messages, draw pictures..."

She carefully maneuvered around other knick-knacks for sale to buy the ancient toy.

Rigby sighed, figuring that there was no use in trying to persuade her against it.

Later that evening, Rigby and Eileen had almost caught up with Mordecai and Margaret.

They were within twenty feet or so of each other.

The opposite couple seemed to be engaged in flirtatious conversation.

Eileen softly nudged Rigby and pulled out the Magna-Doodle. She quickly doodled a sloppy, but recognizable, Mordecai.

She shook the sketch around as she narrated in a gruff voice.

"Yo Margaret, dude. Want to find up what my lips taste like?"

Rigby cackled. He motioned for his turn.

Eileen handed it to him, watching over his shoulder as he drew a horrible Margaret.

"Oooh yes, Mordecai! My love! Let's make-out," he mocked in a dainty voice.

The pair choked on their own laughter.

**A/N: Only 60 more stories to go! haha**


	21. Wayfarer Sunglasses

**theme: Wayfarer Sunglasses**

"Come on, Rigby," Eileen urged. She stuck her head through the passenger's window, gripping the glass with the apexes of her fingers.

Rigby groaned. "I hate the beach," he insisted, arms crossed. "Too many people- too much sand."

"I can make it worth your while." Eileen opened the van door, waving Rigby forward.

"Fine," he grumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt. His hand reached under the seat, feeling until his fingers wrapped around the sunglasses.

"Great!" Eileen exclaimed. "Maybe we can catch up with the others!"

* * *

The beach was packed. People on towels lined the shore up and down, each person accompanied by a frozen treat in attempt to cool themselves off. Rigby sneered.

"Can we find a place away from all of these losers?" he asked the rest of the group. Muscleman and Starla were leading the way, hands clasped together, when Starla came across a spot. "Ooh, Mitch! Over there!" she squealed, pointing to the seemingly only vacant spot. It was wedged between two children playing in the sand, and a teenaged girl outstretched on her towel.

"Great idea, babe," Muscleman agreed, proceeding to kiss his girlfriend passionately.

"Ugh, man! There are children here," Mordecai gagged. "You're just jealous of our love, bro," Muscleman spat back at him, setting down a cooler.

He stripped off his sweaty shirt. "Woo! C'mon, Starla. We've got some water to tread." The couple disappeared into a wave of strangers.

Margaret opened her umbrella, stabbing it into a fresh pile of sand.

"You know, Mordecai," she said to her boyfriend. "Swimming _does_ sound pretty good right about now."

"Yeah! Sure! Let's go," Mordecai stammered.

Ever since they had started dating, Mordecai became like putty in the palms of Margaret's hands. Practically anything she would suggest, he would readily agree with.

Rigby shook his head and laid out his blanket. He plopped under Margaret's umbrella, trying to encase every inch of his body in shade. Margaret turned to Eileen and Rigby.

"Are you two coming along?" she asked.

"Nah."

"I'll stay here with Mr. 'wet blanket'," Eileen told her.

The robin straightened the top half of her polka-dot bikini. "Well, I guess it's just you and me." Mordecai grinned nervously, but allowed Margaret to take his hand and drag him through the crowd.

Rigby shielded his eyes with Wayfarer sunglasses. The rims were coated in ebony, while the center was made up of a lighter thin slab. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back. "Wake me up when this is over," he muttered to Eileen. The mole girl took an icy coke out of the cooler and cracked it open.

"I will," she answered.

* * *

He didn't expect waking up, buried.

Rigby's head was the only part of his body that stuck out. The rest was blanketed in a mound of sand. He squirmed around, furious that someone had buried him alive while he was sleeping.

He noticed that a shovel and a half-empty coke laid next to the cooler.

Rigby's face tensed.

_"Eileen!"_ he shouted in agony.

**A/N: For now on, these drabbles will indeed feature Mordecai and Margaret dating.**

**hehe oh and I'm really excited to say that I'm leaving the "Come On Eileen" theme for the last chapter! it is planned to be awesome~**


	22. Twister

**theme: _Twister_**

The spinner whirled.

_Left foot, yellow._

Bending his knees, he directed his foot outwards (following the spinner's instructions).

She flicked the plastic arrow.

_Right hand, red._

They both became increasingly anxious as their bodies intertwined further. The two pressed against each other, feeling the opposite partner's warmth against their flesh.

He spun again.

_Right hand, yellow._

Rigby eased his hand over to a yellow dot. He froze; sensing Eileen's steady breathing on his chest. Each exhale made each strand of fur pop up, creating a prickly sensation just below his neck.

Eileen shakily reached for the spinner.

_Right hand, blue._

Their legs already tangled, Eileen gradually slid her palm over and-

She collapsed on top of Rigby, causing them both to fall down on the mat.

Mordecai and Margaret, both seated on the couch, erupted with applause.

"Great game, you guys," Mordecai said, leaning forward.

"But _we'll_ mop the floor with you."


	23. Jelly Shoes

**theme: jelly shoes**

"Aren't these _your_ shoes?"

The two twenty-somethings were encircled in maroon cardboard boxes.

Ranging from specific to a generic brand, each unique shoe was arranged in a line on the top of the shelves. Some were disheveled from their usual displays; under the assumption that the women who had tried them on simply threw them back when finding out that they didn't fit.

The smell of fresh plastic mixed with the air.

Eileen had propped herself up against a mirror.

"Huh?"

"Yeah! These are your shoes!" Rigby exclaimed, grabbing a pair of jelly shoes off the shelf.

"Don't you remember? You wore them that one time we went roller-skating. Y'know? With Margaret and Mordecai?"

Eileen pushed back her glasses with an index finger.

She_ did_ remember that but could vaguely recollect what she had worn. "Er.."

"Here," Rigby insisted, impelling her left leg forward.

"Rigby, what are you-"

He easily slipped her foot into the slot.

The jelly shoe, infused with glitter, dazzled as she wiggled her ankle around.

Eileen, faintly, could recall the occasion where her jelly shoes were worn- although, hers had been threadbare, as opposed to these brand new ones.

"Woah, Rigby! How did you know?" she asked him, mouth agape.

His shoulders lifted to a shrug.

"I guess I'm pretty observant."

**A/N: (if you didn't get it, sometimes when people have crushes, they notice insignificant details about the person they're crushing on).**

***cough cough this was a Cinderella referencecough cough***


	24. Terry Towelling Socks

**theme: terry towelling socks**

Rigby hastily unzipped his backpack, causing folds of dirty clothing to droop out the sides. Cold air flowed out of the vents, creating a frigid atmosphere in the bedroom.

Kicking off his sandals, he buried himself under the lilac-scented sheets of his guest bed. He was just about ready to pass out from exhaustion.

Being invited up to Margaret's parents' cabin to stay the week was one thing. No one had told him that he had to go hiking. Or eat 'relatively healthy' foods. Or have to get off his lazy butt and use his legs for once.

Rigby's body was so used to taking it easy and being inactive for hours at a time. Was physical labor what Margaret's family called 'fun'? What they considered leisure?

His muscles tensed up again. He flopped over to another side. His friends eventually piled into the room with him. Mordecai, smoothing over sweat that dotted his forehead, eyed the raccoon.

"Giving up so soon, dude?"

Rigby grumbled, pulling the blankets over his head. "I'm tired," came his muffled croak.

"Whatever, Rigby." "We're going back down with my dad," Margaret informed him, gesturing to Mordecai and Eileen. "Actually," Eileen replied, slipping out of her boots. "I think I'll head in, too."

"Alright, you guys. You know where we'll be if you need us," Margaret said, heading out before Mordecai. Eileen whipped out her leather suitcase and slid her hand in the top crack. She pulled out a white bundle, fitting needlessly into her palm.

Rigby sneaked a glimpse from under his multi-layered cover. "Socks?" he questioned. "Not just any socks," she replied. "Terry Towelling socks."

The mole woman gave a slight nod in response. Unrolling them, she carefully slipped into each sock. Rigby noticed the embroidery that wove around the top; a series of cobalt loops. Without warning, Eileen toppled into the bed previously occupied by Rigby.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, furiously pushing her arm. "Knock it off, Eileen! I was here first!" Coyly, she replied, "at least I didn't hog all of the blankets."

Rigby growled, but then settled into his groove in the bed. She'd have to get out sooner or later.

Eileen turned. Due to his partially outstretched nose, they were practically Eskimo-kissing on the spot. He could feel her breath release on his face as she spoke.

"It was nice out. You know, the stars."

He did a half shrug and pulled the blankets up higher. "That meteor shower.. don't you remember? They shined bright like tonights' stars," she whispered, drawing closer. "Two celestial bodies.. coming together.

I also recall that we were together that night. Alone, on top of make-out point."

Rigby felt claustrophobic, and he still wasn't sure where Eileen was going with this.  
"The midnight air was so cold... yet, refreshing."

He felt her lukewarm hand wrap around his. Immediately after, she jolted up and wiggled out from underneath the covers. "I knew it. You're freezing!" Eileen proclaimed, heading over to her suitcase once more. "So what?" Rigby scoffed. "I'm a man. I can handle it."

Eileen snuck something out of her clothes and tossed it to him. It rolled off the corner of his bed and plummeted to the floor. "I'm gonna make us some hot chocolate. But in the meantime.." she said, glancing at the ground. "Wear those. It'll warm up your feet."

Rigby watched as she left the room, hearing the distant upward thuds as proof of her exit.

He leaned over the edge of the bed and saw that she had indeed thrown Terry Towelling socks at him.

**A/N: Everyone! I'm alive!**

**No, but really... thanks for being really patient with me. Right after that last chapter a while back, I got a terrible case of writers' block (and not to mention, a lot of school work). But I've regained a lot of motivation and I'm happy to say that I'll be posting again!**


	25. Yo-yo

**theme: yo-yo**

"Alright, dude. I almost got this down."

Rigby frantically tried to get the knots out of the toys' string, only to entangle it further. Attempting to straighten things out, he carefully latched his fingers onto the fringe of one tether. He began to unwind the rope steadily.

"C'mon, man," Mordecai said, agitation lacing his tone. "Let me take a crack at it already. Our coffee'll be here any minute now."

"No, no! I can do it myself!" Rigby exclaimed, moving the orange yo-yo away from his friend.

Mordecai sighed. He knew that once Rigby got into one of his 'moods', he'd be completely stubborn and not listen to anyone.

He focused on his surroundings. The Coffee Shop, today, seemed to be more crowded than usual. People were lined up at the counter, impatiently waiting for their orders to be filled.

_No wonder it's taking forever for our coffee to get here,_ he thought. _Full house._

His mind was obstructed by Rigby's voice. "Yeah-uh! Finally!"

Raveling the white string back up, he looked at Mordecai, a smirk plastered to his face. "Watch and learn, man."

He chucked the yo-yo forward, suspending it in the air with a short twirl; proceeding to repeat it over and over. Mordecai rolled his eyes.

"You're just doing the same move," he commented.

"Then watch this!" Rigby spun the toy around above his head in a circular motion. "See? Isn't it cooler_ now_?"

Mordecai shrugged in response. Picking up his speed, he whirled his yo-yo even faster than before.

"Hey, guys. Here's yo-"

The thin rope suddenly severed itself as it flew across the table, striking a mole waitress in the face. She yelped, dropping their paper cups to the floor to put a hand on her face. Black coffee pooled beneath her.

A nearby woman and a man came to her assistance, grabbing her arms and shoulders for support.

Before Mordecai could even process what had just occurred, Rigby had practically leaped out of his seat to go check on her.

Worried, he cried out, "Eileen! Are you alright?!" She shakily moved her hand, revealing a narrow stream of blood trailing down her face.

"Oh, _S._." he was able to hear Rigby mutter under his breath. "I am so sorry, Eileen..-"

"Don't worry about it. I get nosebleeds all the time," Eileen replied, dabbing the blood with the back of her hand. She smiled at the customers who had helped her up. "Thank-you, I'm fine," she assured, waving them off.

"No. I should worry about it. I broke your face.. bone!" Rigby told her. He threw his arm around her shoulders and ushered her to the bathrooms. "Now let's clean you up, okay?"

Mordecai stared as the two left, locked around each other. He gave their backs a knowing grin.

_He_ totally _has feelings for her,_ he thought.

And it only took him a yo-yo to realize it.


	26. Shoulder Pads

**theme: shoulder pads**

An aching, defeated sensation was present in Eileen as she sat, slumped over, at a bus stop.

This had been her fourth attempt in a row at the same job.

The job she had yearned for since she was a young girl; a full-fledged career as an astrologist.

She had even worn her mother's old suit, hoping to leave a more dignified impression on her interviewers. Why couldn't anyone hire her? Eileen, if anything, had more than enough experience to qualify for her dream job.

She combed her fingers through her gel-heavy bangs.

Back to the drawing board.. yet again.

"Eileen? Is that you?"

From the corner of her eye, a brown figure approached her.

She merely blinked in response. She had been too busy dwelling on her failure that she hadn't even realized who had called her name.

"Oh," she replied, straightening her posture. "I didn't notice you there, Rigby."

He shot her a sideways glance before taking a seat next to her on the bench.

"What are you doing here downtown?" Eileen questioned her friend. Rigby lifted a torn plastic bag up to his lap.

"Just bought a new game. What are _you_ doing here?" he answered, checking her up and down. "No wait, let me guess- trying out for lead clown at the circus?"

Eileen playfully punched him in the arm. "No! I was just at an interview.. for, y'know.. a job."

He fidgeted with the cushions encircling her neck. "So that's why you're wearing shoulder pads?"

She brushed his hands off, slightly embarrassed. "I forgot to take those out. This used to be my moms', you know.. I just want to leave a good impression!"

"Well, I dunno that much about job interviews and that crap," Rigby said, picking his teeth with his right pinky. "But you should try to be yourself or whatever."

Eileen shrugged. "I suppose you're right. Thanks for the advice."

"No problem- how do you think you did.. anyways?"

The mole woman couldn't help but notice his eyes separate contact from hers.

She let out an anguished sigh before replying. "Poorly. I doubt that I'll get the job."

"Well, cheer up, man! You still work a solid job at the Coffee Shop. Plus, if it makes you feel better, it... er, would be too different without you there," he told her, trailing off into a murmur.

Eileen perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah. Mordecai and Margaret would probably make out (or something) the whole time I'm there. Ew," Rigby explained. "I'd want someone chill to talk to."

"Woah. I've never thought about it like that," she said, giving him a tremendous smile. "Thank-you. That really cheered me up."

"No problem- and hey!" he exclaimed, getting up. "Looks like your ride is here. See ya tomorrow, Eileen!"

As Eileen headed steadily into the bus, she quickly turned back to Rigby once more. He was walking away, bag in hand.

She felt rejuvenated.

Maybe working at the Coffee Shop wasn't such a bad thing after all.

**A/N: ehe. sorry for more wait. i'm running an ask eileen blog now on tumblr, which seems to take a lot out of me **

**My sincerest apologies, readers.**


	27. Connect Four

**theme: connect four**

"Eileen." His tone was rough; yet perplexed. A feeling of dread washed over him as he realized that they- no, SHE was taking a right and proceeding into the lot.

"Eileen.." Rigby repeated, creating more of an edge to his voice. She ignored him as she impelled her van back into a space.

"Eileen! This doesn't look like an ice-cream parlor," he squealed, hands fumbling for the lock on his door. Eileen, sticking her hand into the vehicle's console, pulled out a stick of peppermint gum. Carefully, she stuck into the back of her mouth and started chewing.

"Uh, hello? Are you even listening to me? I thought you said that we'd be getting ice-cream," he stated, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Oh, well, we are," Eileen piped up. "Right after you get your teeth cleaned."

Reaching across his lap, she unlatched the lock. Her fingers then went for his seat belt He swatted them away. "No thanks. I'd prefer to wait for my ice-cream in here."

"Come on Rigby. It won't even take that long. And I promise, if you go through with this, I'll buy you the largest sundae they have," she replied with a grin.

Hope seeping into his eyes, he asked, "Woah, really?"

"Really."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll go through with this stupid dentist thing just for the sundae," Rigby groaned, then complying by unbuckling his seatbelt. He joined up with Eileen at the center of the parking lot.

"Something I still don't get is why you're the one doing this... did Mordecai put you up to it?"

"Yep. Now, let's get a move on! Your appointment is in ten minutes or so. Wouldn't want to be late for your first teeth cleaning in eight years."

* * *

Sitting down in the waiting room made Rigby feel uncomfortable. The couches were coated in a thick plastic, rendering it virtually impossible to relax. Children of various ages took up all of the video-game stations and some of the young kids were sobbing. As soon as Eileen returned from checking him in, he scooted over on the couch, pressing his thigh against the arm-rest.

"Man. I hate this place," he commented, a scowl plastered to his face.

"It can't be that bad."

"It is. The last time I came here, the dentist told me I had to have my wisdom teeth taken out.

"Ouch," Eileen commented. "You don't know the half of it. Plus, I never got any of the good toys! Don always got the awesome army soldiers, and meanwhile, I was stuck with just getting crappy candy bracelets," Rigby said.

"Well, I can assure you that he won't need your wisdom teeth taken out!" Eileen kept on chewing her gum, freshening up her breath.

"Ha ha."

Peering over the side of the couch, her face lit up. Her hands dived underneath a wooden stool beside them. "Hey! A connect four game!"

Eileen pulled the tawny-painted game out, sitting it on a coffee table parallel to their knees.

"I can't even remember the last time I played one of these babies," she remarked.

She tipped it upside-down, allowing all of the red and blue chips to fall out.

"We still have time before the appointment. Wanna play?"

Rigby, whom had remained momentarily silent, began to speak. "Er... no offense, but that game sucks.

She shrugged. "It's better than waiting to do something you dread. Perhaps it could take your mind off of things?" she questioned, separating the pieces.

"I guess so.." Rigby muttered, gathering blue pieces in his cupped hands. "Cool, then! The first one to connect four wins," Eileen proclaimed, continuing the chomping movements of her jaw.

They engaged in a battle of wits, each taking turn to drop their color-coded piece into the slots. Eileen had blocked off several his poor attempts to place four in a row. She knew that she could of won in an instant just by pondering over the correct move, but instead, she played along to Rigby's childlike psyche and made the game drag on. Time elapsed gradually, but soon enough, Eileen saw a dentist's assistant approach them from the hallway.

She quickly let him take the victory.

"Ohhh! In your face, Eileen! For once, I actually beat you at something! Something you like!" Rigby exclaimed, jumping up out of him seat.

Eileen slightly smiled. "Yup. You got me."

**A/N: My _sincerest_ apologies to my readers. I feel like I've lied to you about my motivation returning... yeah, right after I said that, life decided to slit my motivation's throat (killing it almost instantly). I'm really sorry about the pace of these drabbles. I promise I'll try to get my act together and stop being so lazy... I'm going to see family starting Wednesday (no internet access) so hopefully I can write a few chapters there... try to regain my motivation again.**

**In the meantime, enjoy this sloppily-written disaster of a drabble. c: **


	28. Digital Watch

**theme: digital watch**

The only source of light was the occasional flicker of lightning out in the distance. Her apartment was kept in an unusual quiet that night. She couldn't quite recollect what task she had been carrying out before the power outage.

Formerly, the woman has undressed into fresh lingerie and a silk sea foam-green robe.

Lavender filled her nostrils as she toppled over onto her bed, inhaling it's enriching odors. Eileen had set down her glasses somewhere in her kitchen, but there was virtually no way of finding them now. She had been without electricity for at least an hour.

Besides the pitter-patter of rain on concrete and the ominous chirping of crickets outside, the silence created a sense of vacancy inside of Eileen's head. Her cell-phone battery was dead, and due to the lack of electricity, she was unable to recharge it. No flashlights.

There were a couple of vanilla candles scattered throughout her living room but alas, she was out of matches. Eileen was certainly kicking herself for her lack of preparation for the storm. Being an avid outdoors man, her father always made sure to pound one thing into her adolescent brain; "be ready for anything".

Warily, she rolled under the covers, drawing them over her head. _Someone should be here to fix the power soon enough.._

Eileen flinched as soon as she heard a loud banging coming from the living room Hesitantly, she slipped out from underneath the sheets, straightening her robe as she headed down the corridor. Being half-blind and completely shrouded in darkness, it was difficult for her to maneuver her way past her various furniture. A series of hurried knocks followed.

"I'm coming," she insisted, approached the door with caution. Eileen squinted through the peep-hole, puzzled to see a brown-grayish blob standing at her doorstep. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Rigby," the blur spoke through the door. His voice was slightly drowned out by the sound of rain.

Immediately, she yanked it open. "I'm so sorry I took so long! Come in," Eileen insisted, stepping out of his way. She was surprised to feel him slip an object into her grasp. "I thought that this might be useful," Rigby told her, pulling out a duplicate of his own.

Eileen's fingers grazed some sort of switch. **_Click!_ **A beam of light shot out of the end. "Woah! Thanks!"

"Don't mention it," he replied, turning his flashlight on. He instantly tensed up. "Er.."

"What?" By now, Eileen had retrieved her glasses from the kitchen counter. Rigby coughed, signaling his discomfort with the situation. "You, uh- your robe is loose."

Blood rushed to her face as she quickly tied it back up. "Thank-you for catching that," Eileen responded. Wanting to drive the attention off of her, she looked at Rigby. "What are you doing here? And.. oh my gosh- you're soaking wet!" Eileen exclaimed, observing his damp fur. She rushed into her closet to bring back a towel for him.

Rubbing down his hair, Rigby tried as best he could to explain himself. "So there me and Mordo were, right?"

"Mordo and_ I_."

"..Whatever," he continued, ruffling the brown tufts of hair on his head. "Anyways, we had just gotten away from this crazy monster-thingy when the rain started. Mordecai called up Margaret to make sure she was okay and junk. He told me to call you up, too, but you didn't answer. I was all like, 'well maybe her phone lines are down, man', and he was all 'well you should still go check on her dude, be a good person blah blah blah'. So, out of the kindness of my heart, I walked a whole two blocks in the pouring rain," Rigby finished, handing the muddy towel to Eileen.

"And it looks to me like I came here for nothing. You're okay, right, Eileen?" The mole paused for a moment, pondering an answer. "I suppose I'm fine."

"Sweet. Well, if you'd happen to have an umbrella- that'd be cool-, I'd like to borro-" "Wait!" Eileen interrupted, chucking the filthy towel onto her couch. She shone the the light onto Rigby's watch. "What time is it?"

"Uh.." he said, scanning the digital numbers on his wrist. "About 9:47. Why?"

"Just- can you stay for just a couple more minutes? Until, um.. 9:55? Please?" she begged.

Rigby picked up his flashlight and shrugged. "I guess just a few more minutes won't kill me."

For the remainder of the time he was there, Rigby and Eileen engaged in hushed conversations. Rigby lead in embarrassing stories about Mordecai in junior high (making both of them erupt in childish laughter) and in return, Eileen released juicy gossip during a game of 'truth or dare'.

"Truth or dare?" she asked, shining the flashlight under her face for dramatic affect.

"Truth."

"Have you ever been in love?" Eileen, knowing Rigby, imagined him replying with something stupid, like 'do grilled-cheese sandwiches count?'. But instead, he came up with a perplexing answer.

"I don't know what love feels like, so I wouldn't be able to tell you."

They followed up the game with a competition based off of hand-puppets made on the ceiling. Rigby was in the middle of telling her about his little brother, Don, when when the all of the electronics miraculously turned back on. With a loud hum, the air conditioning started up as well. "Hey! Looks like the electricity is back," Eileen proclaimed, jumping off of her bed.

"Yeah. Y'know, I think I have get back to the Park House now. I gotta work tomorrow, so.." he trailed off, looking out the bedroom window. "And I guess I don't need an umbrella," he commented, gesturing outside.

The rain had ceased.

* * *

Rigby treaded up the darkened stairs, exhaused. He proceeded to enter his and Mordecai's bedroom, unannounced. Mordecai was lying in bed, his covers disheveled. "There you are, dude! What took you so long?" he asked, sitting up.

"I went to check on Eileen like you told me to. Why?" Rigby questioned, frowning. "What time is it?"

"Don't look at me. You're the one with the watch," Mordecai muttered back, easing his head down back onto his pillow.

Rigby checked the numbers displayed on his digital watch.

It was 1:34 in the morning.

**A/N: You proud of me, guys? I wrote a bunch of drabbles on my vacation! be prepared hohoho~**


	29. Mullet

**theme: mullet**

(A/N: this takes place during "Death Punchies")

He entered the Coffee Shop; his mind reeling. A scowl was plastered to his face as he slammed the glass door behind him. _Of course Mordecai would be here. For dumb Margaret. Typical._

To Rigby's surprise, he didn't see Margaret there. Instead, an unfamiliar face greeted him as he stormed through the diner.

A petite woman with brunette hair was scrubbing down the counter. She bit her lip as soon as she spotted him.

The waitress adjusted her wire-rim glasses, clearing her throat. "Hello, sir. Is there something-"

"Mordecai," Rigby interrupted, his tone cold. "Where's Mordecai?"

"Mordecai?" the girl asked, baffled. "Look, today's my first day here, and I don't kno-"

"I'll ask you one more time."

Rigby lifted his fist up to her face, trying his hardest to be condescending. "And don't think for a second that I'll hesitate to hit a chick," he growled.

Her hands trembled slightly. The woman's frightened expression arose an odd twinge of guilt in Rigby, but he decided to ignore his feelings all together.

_"Where's Mordecai?"_ he spat at her. Her terrified look melted into a half-smile.

"I love your mullet," she commented.

"You... what?! Are you deaf or something?" Rigby squealed, feeling his face grow warm. _Who does this chick think she is? She was scared just a second ago.._

"And the cut-offs, too. Very retro," the waitress complimented. Rigby took a step back.

He wasn't sure what had rapidly changed the strange girl's attitude, or why she was nice to him. _Why doesn't she fear me?! She should fear me!_

Rigby masked his confusion with a hard expression. He smoothed back a stray hair of his mullet. "You're wasting my time," he hissed at the woman. Sticking his hands down in the bottoms of his pockets, he strolled out of the Coffee Shop.

Turning around, he spoke to her one last time. "Just.. don't get in my way again. You hear me?"

A couple of seconds following his exit, Margaret appeared behind the counter. She joined up with her co-worker. "Thanks for covering my shift while I was in the bathroom, Eileen."

"Margaret... you'll never guess what just happened!" "What?"

Eileen grinned. "The cutest boy _ever_ just spoke to me."


	30. Side-Ponytail

**theme: side ponytail**

"Why do you always wear your hair like that?"

The two were secluded in their own booth; a sandwich composed of two red-leather seats and a rectangular table at the center. They were accompanied by Mordecai and Margaret, who had _insisted_ that the booths were too small to fit all four of them together.

Eileen had been sipping away at her diet cola for half an hour now. "Hm?" she questioned, glancing up from her menu.

"Y'know," Rigby stated, pointing at the side of her head. "Your side-ponytail. Why don't you ever just put your hair down?"

Eileen hooked her finger onto a strand of hair and began fidgeting with it. "I feel as though it kinda symbolizes my unique personality. It's easier than engaging in head-on English dialect with-" She paused, reading Rigby's facial expression. "Or rather, I just like my hair like this."

Rigby began to pick at his menu's embroidery. "I don't even remember the last time you put your hair down... if you even have."

Eileen's hand went straight for her hair-tie. "I can show you if you want," she offered, fingers already digging through her silky locks. Rigby shrugged in response. "Sure, I guess."

She unwound the tie, pulling it out with little difficulty. With a nudge of her hand, Eileen's hair slid down her shoulder, revealing a natural curl. He had stopped toying with the stray thread to stare at his friend across the booth.

"You look sort of.. different," Rigby said. "Different good or different bad?"

"Different... good. You don't look half bad," he replied with a small, but effective, grin. Eileen blushed, carefully clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Thank-you, Rigby. I'll be sure to wear it like this more often."


	31. Jenga!

**theme: Jenga!**

Rigby bit his lip as he gradually eased the block out. The whole foundation of the wooden fort began to tremble. Carefully, he managed to slip the brick out of its' space. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.

"Ha!" he laughed, leaping up out of his seat. "In your face, Do-" The table underneath him shook slightly. In an instant, the Jenga construction had collasped. Wooden blocks began to spill off the sides of the coffee table. Rigby's face dropped. He faced his younger brother.

"Look what you did!" he screeched, tightening his grip on the piece in his palm. "This is all your fault! I felt you kick the table!"

"Cool it, Rigby," Benson warned. He pushed his chair backwards to stand up.

"_No!_ You don't understand!"

"Bro, I didn't mean to-" Don started. He reached out to touch his brother's arm, but the gesture immediately backfired. Rigby slapped his hand away, jerking in the opposite direction. "I'm going out. None of you follow me," he ordered, making his way through the front door.

Don exchanged reluctant glances between Mordecai and Benson. "Shouldn't we go after him?" he questioned.

Benson sighed. "No. I think Rigby just needs to blow off some steam.. by himself."

Mordecai directed his attention towards Don. "Yeah dude. Don't sweat it," he told him. "Rigby's always acting like it's his time of the month anyways."

* * *

The porcelain plate being set on cherrywood let loose a soft clinking sound. Eileen peered over his shoulder. "Why the long face?" she asked. Eileen pulled out a wooden stool beside him.

She glanced briefly at her wrist watch. "And the late-night snack?"

Rigby's brow lowered into a scowl. He made sure to avoid contact with her curious brown eyes. "I'm fine, okay? So leave me alone," he murmered, taking a bite out of his french-toast. Crumbs sprinkled the glossy serving table.

Eileen impelled her hand forward. "Isn't this a Jenga piece? Oh, I _adore_ Jenga!" she proclaimed, the wooden brick in her palm.

"Shouldn't you be waiting other tables?" Rigby snapped at her. Eileen's happy-go-lucky demeanor evaporated.

"What's the matter? For real, Rigby.. I'm worried about you!"

His defenses arose as he felt her large eyes continuously probe him for answers. "I told you- _nothing's wrong_. Just let me eat my french toast in peace!"

"It's Don, isn't it?" Eileen's voice cracked as she spoke, softening up Rigby a bit.

"How- how did you know?" he replied, finally allowing eye-contact with her.

"You told me that he was coming a week ago, remember? I had firgured he'd probably do something to set you off like this... you always do become more.. annoyed, when he comes to visit," Eileen explained, toying with the Jenga piece. Rigby frowned.

"He's just- I don't know. It doesn't... _ugh_! It's hard to explain."

"Does it have to do with the Jenga game?"

"No," he responded. "The whole game thing was stupid to get mad about. I think all this.. this..."

"Emotion?" Eileen offered up. "Tension?"

"_Tension_. All this tension between us gets in the way sometimes. And yeah, I lost the game six times in a row. Six! I looked stupid in front of everyone," Rigby moaned, hanging his head.

"Rigby, Jenga isn't a game of wits. It's a game of luck."

"Everybody expects me to be better because I'm the older brother," he went on, ignoring Eileen. "Everybody thinks I'm a moron."

"No," Eileen said, her tone more firm. "You're not, by any means, a moron. Now you get back out there and show everyone what you're made of!"

"But-"

"No 'but's, Rigby. You're going to walk back to the Park House and show those chumps how to really play Jenga!" Eileen cheered. She placed the block back in his hand, reassuring him with a smile.

"Whatever you say, coach," he replied, getting back up. "And.. Eileen?"

"Yeah?"

Rigby offered her a small grin, forming at the sides of his mouth.

"Thanks."

**A/N: ONLY 49 LEFT! WOOO!**


	32. Sega Master System

**theme: Sega Master System **

"Dude, you guys have been playing for like two hours straight. Maybe Margaret and I could have a turn before we turn sixty..?"

Rigby and Eileen sat side-by-side on the living room couch. Rigby proped his feet up on the coffee table before he reached across Eileen's lap, gathering a handful of potato chips in his fist.

"No way, man," he replied, stuffing them into his mouth. He spoke louder so his voice wouldn't be drowned out by the crunching.

"We've almost beat this level! Eileen is_ soo_ much better at playing video games than you, Mordo." Margaret leaned down over the couch, willing to attempt to pursuade her friend.

"Eileen..." she started, her pitch matching the plea.

"Sorry Margaret, but I'm going to have to go with Rigby on this one," she told her, unflinching.

Mordecai and Margaret exchanged looks.

"Whatever. Let's just leave these love-birds alone," Mordecai sighed, rolling his eyes.


	33. Hair Scrunchy

**theme: hair scrunchy**

A blue splash of color in his peripheral vision perked his attention as he refilled the soap dispenser.

Rigby screwed the pump back on, curious to see what had caught his eye. He knelt down beside the counter to find a hair scrunchy, lying on the floor. He noticed several strands of brunette hair clinging to its' sides when it hit him. It wasn't just _any_ hair scrunchy.

It was _Eileen's._

He scooped it into his hand, nearing it closer to his face. The blue-green scrunchy let off a strong aroma of cinnamon. Rigby, not knowing exactly what the smell was called, referred to it in his mind as a 'Christmas time' odor.

Curiosity got the best of him as he started to wonder how it had wound up in his bathroom.

_Maybe she was putting on lipstick (or whatever chicks do in the bathroom) and she just dropped it..? Or maybe Eileen left it here on purpose, knowing that I'd find it... when was the last time she was over here?_

While Rigby was pondering over the hair tie, an unfamiliar aching crept into his stomach. An odd desire._ A yearning._

The sensation puzzled him, but his body seemed to move without thought as he inhaled the scrunchy again. Something in his gut just wanted to keep smelling it, taking in its' intoxicating fragrance, over and over again.

Rigby wasn't sure if he was attracted to its' scent because it smelled really good- or it smelled like Eileen.

Without any hesitation, Rigby stuffed Eileen's hair scrunchy into his hoodie pocket._ I'm sure she's got a billion of these... she wouldn't miss just one.._

**A/N: i could of taken this a step further, but i wanted to keep my rating, heheh. ;D**


	34. Sweatband

**theme: sweatband**

At the ripe age of 24, Eileen was nimble; ballet lessons all throughout her childhood molded her into a strong and lithe young woman. She loved to exercise She lived/ for that adrenaline coursing through her veins. Fresh, six-in-the-morning air pumping in and out of her lungs.

That afternoon, she was equipped with her MP3 player, tucked in her shorts' pocket, and a sweatband wrapped around her forehead. Eileen kept a steady pace, jogging around the perimeter of the park. Her trip had been going smoothly until she felt something tug at her right foot. Before she could even glance down, Eileen toppled over onto the concrete, scraping her knee instantly.

Her ear buds dropped into the grass just as she turned over on her side. A large tree-root was protruding out of a crack in the pavement. She grunted softly, peering over at her right knee.

A gash ran across its' diameter, leaving small rivulets of blood to trail out of its' sides. Eileen bit her lip.

How had she managed to scrape it up so badly? All she had done was fall down onto the sidewalk.

Her hands hovered above her injury. Even the slightest touch made her wince in pain._ Keep calm, Eileen. Be resourceful._

She pulled the lime sweatband out of her greasy hair, managing to tie it around her leg. In the back of her mind, she hoped that it would serve as a bit of a tourniquet prevent further blood-loss. She was startled to hear someone cry out behind her.

"Hey- isn't that Irene? One of the waitresses at the Coffee Shop that you guys hang out with?"

Her fingertips began feeling wet. Eileen looked down. Red began to bleed through the sweatband.

"It's Eileen, Thomas," a second voice said, which Eileen identified as Mordecai. "But you're right. I guess we should go over and say hi."

Footsteps gathering closer behind Eileen told her that they were approaching. She tried to play down her scrape, wearing a fake smile as they came up to her. Mordecai was carrying a rake in his hand as he greeted her. "What's up, Eileen?" he said, smiling. She had barely noticed Rigby, who was trailing next to the blue jay.

"Hey guys," Eileen croaked out, tightening her grip on the band. "What are you doing here?"

"We work here. The better question is what are _you_ doing here?" Rigby asked. Mordecai socked him in the arm.

"Don't be rude, dude," he muttered to his friend. "Benson told us to rake up some leaves around this area. Autumn, y'know?"

Thomas, who had caught up with his co-workers, stared at her leg. "Uh- what's wrong with your knee?" he questioned, looking uneasy. Mordecai and Rigby's eyes darted towards her injury. "Woah!" Mordecai exclaimed, his face growing pale. "Is it broken?"

"I don't think so," Eileen replied, feeling a twinge of embarrassment "Well, do you need any help? Skips knows his way around medicine," Mordecai offered, placing a hand on her shoulder. Thomas assisted him in helping her stand.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted. "Really. Thanks for helping me up, though! I think I needed that."

"If you're sure you're okay, then.. alright. We'll be raking leaves over in the courtyard if you need us, Eileen," Mordecai called, walking off with Thomas. Rigby, however, lingered behind. He stared at Eileen in awe.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not that much. I've learned to get over these kinds of things easily!"

Rigby paused. "Wow. You're really strong- you know, for a girl and all," he commented. "You've got more guts than most people I know!"

"Thanks, Rigby," Eileen responded, blushing a little.

As he joined up with the others, Eileen couldn't help but think that she was glad she had cut her knee.


	35. Whoopee Cushion

**theme: whoopee cusion**

Eileen had seen the lump under the blanket before she had even gotten a slice of cake.

Continuing as if she hadn't already spotted it, she carved out a portion of chocolate cake, easing it onto her paper plate. She grabbed a silver fork out of the kitchen drawer and headed towards her seat.

She noticed from the corner of her eye that Rigby was watching her.

Before Eileen sat down on the chair that he had pulled out for her, she removed the patchwork blanket from it, revealing a whoopee cushion.

She picked it up and tossed it to Rigby, who expressed uttermost surprise.

"Nice try, Rigby," Eileen said, smirking. "But you're going to have to assemble a more intricate prank than that. I did just turn twenty-five, you know."

**A/N: short one for this round. but i can assure you, i'm writing these a lot faster! expect the next drabble soon! c:**


	36. Disco Night

**theme: disco night**

"I don't see why_ I_ have to go to this party. I was just fine at home, playing video games." Mordecai locked up the cart, clicking the button multiple times to reassure him.

"No one said you had to. I'm going because my girlfriend is a hostess," he replied. "And I think you _wanted_ to go because the girl of your dreams is gonna be a hostess, too."

"Stop talking!" Rigby shouted, throwing his fists up in the air. "Eileen is NOT the girl of my dreams, okay?! I don't even have a girl of my dreams. I've never dreamed about a girl in my life- **_shut it!_**"

"Alright, dude, just calm down," Mordecai said in a hushed tone. "I was just messing with you."

"Whatever," Rigby grumbled in response. The two approached the Coffee Shop's main doors, both catching the muffled disco music from inside. Upon entering, Rigby was mildly surprised at how packed it was. People seemed to fill up every nook and cranny of the suburban shop.

It created a sense of dread in the twenty-three-year-old. He was claustrophobic, and having so little space to breathe made him uneasy.

A large disco ball was suspended from the ceiling, spreading its' sprightly atmosphere throughout the lobby. Rigby felt Mordecai's presence disappear next to him as he made his way towards Margaret.

The raccoon stood on the tips of his toes, scanning faces for Eileen. He knew that she would be compensation for being here. Maneuvering past tables and stools, he got closer to the counter when he heard Eileen call out from behind him. "Hey, Rigby! Over here!"

Rigby swerved around, peering over heads. "Eileen?" he questioned, raising his voice against the thunderous music. "Right in front of you, silly!"

She waved her hand in front of his face, her golden bracelets jingling. Eileen was standing with another guy.

"_Oh!_ I didn't even recognize you," Rigby commented, analyzing his friend's temporary look.

Eileen was wearing a neon green tank-top that had a single strap; it flowed from one shoulder to just above her breast. Her hair was curled and positioned up high beside her hairline. She had on jean cut-offs and hot pink leggings underneath.

He noted, with slight embarrassment, that she wasn't wearing her glasses.

"You look.. better than usual, I guess," Rigby commented. Eileen's face lit up. "You really think so?"

"Well, I'll leave you two to talk," a muscle-bound blonde said, grinning. Rigby semi-recognized him, but couldn't figure out from where. "Oh! Rigby, you remember my friend Tuck Packerd, right?" Eileen asked, smiling.

"Oh.. yeah. Hey," Rigby answered, not making eye contact with Tuck. "You kids have fun. It was nice catching up with you, Eileen," Tuck told her, pulling her into a slight hug. Rigby felt a slight twinge of jealousy, but his facial expression didn't change.

"Same here! Good luck with that chess tournament on Wednesday," Eileen called to him as he weaved back into the crowd. She turned to Rigby. "Enjoying yourself so far?"

"Not rea- wait, how come you can see me? You're not wearing your glasses."

"I don't usually wear my contacts that often, but it was a special occasion! I just picked them up from my optician last week," Eileen explained. She smirked knowingly. Rigby wondered if she was thinking about that one time he had confessed that she looked hot without her glasses on.

"Well- it's a party, right? C'mon!"

Eileen took him by the wrists and thrust him forward. Rigby was still tense, but he seemed to relax a tiny bit. He gave her a perplexed look. "Aren't you supposed to be working though?"

Eileen shrugged.

"One dance with a guy I like won't kill my boss."


	37. PAC-MAN

**theme: pacman **

"Is Eileen alright? She looks a little... out of it," Mordecai remarked, his voice rising barely above a whisper. The cardinal waitress merely shrugged in response.

"She hasn't spoken a legible English sentence to me in two days! It's so weird. I asked her if she was okay earlier this morning, but she just muttered something under her breath," Margaret explained, sinking down to Mordecai's level.

"And Eileen isn't texting me back like she always does.. I'm afraid that there's something wrong with her."

"Maybe she's just overworked?" Mordecai suggested. "Maybe."

He adjusted his frame of view back to Eileen, nearly cringing at how awful she appeared. Her usually sleek auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun, as opposed to a side-ponytail. Mordecai took note of the growing tangles she was trying to conceal beneath it.

Eileen's clothes were disheveled, as if she had just thrown them on during the car ride to work. The eggshell-colored skirt she was dressed in had a large coffee stain on the back. As soon as she faced his direction to converse with a customer, he caught a glance of her eyes; noticeably bloodshot with bags curving down beneath them. Mordecai heard Margaret intake a sharp gasp of air.

"She looks even worse than this morning!" Margaret exclaimed hoarsely.

Rigby, who had been scarfing down his meatball sub during their conversation, decided to throw in his two cents. "Eileen looks like she got hit by a bus." Mordecai's fist flew into his arm. "Dude, not the time. There could be something wrong with her health or something!"

"Okay, okay.. _sheesh_," Rigby whined, rubbing the newly bruised portion of his arm. "But didja see how she was taking orders, man? Eileen was all shaky." He paused to wipe the marinara sauce off his chin. "Do you think," Rigby began, his voice dropping. "that she might of started doin-"

"No," Margaret interrupted. "Eileen's been my best friend for years now._ I know her._ No matter what the circumstance, she would_ never_ resort to something like that." While her voice was firm, her tone hinted that she was unsure, as if she was trying to convince herself as well.

"Hey, I'm just sayin'."

"Rigby, why don't you go talk to her? She does, after all, have an insanely huge crush on you," Mordecai insisted. Rigby rolled his eyes. "Ugh. If it'll get you off my case, fine," he mumbled, slipping off of his stool. Almost immediately, he caught sight of the petite waitress, playing a game at the back of the store. He approached her with a grin.

"Hey, Eileen! How's it going?" Rigby asked.

Eileen had focused all of her concentration towards the game, not even glancing over at who was talking to her. "I'm on my break," Eileen sighed. Her fingers were trembling as she fiddled with the buttons. Rigby took a step closer, trying his best to maintain his smile. "Um, whatcha playing?"

"I'm on my break," she repeated expressionlessly. Rigby distanced himself from her, heading back to his seat. Mordecai and Margaret exchanged anxious expressions. "So? What did she say to you?"

"She kept on saying that she was on her break or something. And.. Eileen didn't even look at me! It was almost like she had tunnel vision. I dunno what her deal is," Rigby accounted, attempting to overlay his disappointment with annoyance.

"Margaret, all chicks are on their things at the same time, right? Is it _that_ time of the month?"

Margaret blushed furiously and lowered her brow into a scowl. "No! I mean, not all women have it the same time, but- even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you!"

"Just be quiet, Rigby," Mordecai hissed. He then wrapped his arm around his girlfriends' waist. "Sorry, Margaret. Rigby's just a jerk sometimes, that's all," he said while he consoled her.

Rigby pushed out his chair. "Well, I guess I'll see you lovebirds later," he called out.

* * *

Rigby had out his phone, mindlessly toying with the apps, when a green flashing light sparked his interest. An old text from Eileen that he had never read popped up as he tapped it lightly with his thumb.

**Hey Rigby! (: I have to close up shop tonight, so see you later~**

He briefly skimmed for that date. She had sent it to him about a week ago. Rigby let out a defeated sigh, letting his fingers go to work.

**eileen- r u ok? mordo told me to text u, hes p worried **

He pressed the send button and began awaiting for a response, pleasantly surprised when his phone vibrated only ten seconds later. Rigby opened up Eileen's response.

**u'M FONE. OK?**

Rigby frowned. The reply was so unusual, it didn't even sound like it was coming from her. His suspicion was aroused.

**u dont sound ok eileen. seriosly, tell me wats goin on w u!**

He got a message in return a second later.

**ajut yp aleught? i dwofg90epfw f**

He began frantically typing.

**eileen theres somethang wrong with u and ur not telling me. just come out with it alreade. where r u?**

The answer took a bit longer to come back.

**c0free shoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo **

He looked perplexed.

**the coffee shop isnt open, how r u there?**

This time, though, Rigby didn't receive an answer. He grumbled, springs screeching as he got off his trampoline. Rigby hesitantly admitted to himself that yes; he was worried about Eileen, along with her well-being.

It was weird to say, but he missed her constant babbling about video games and astronomy.. even if it got on his nerves sometimes. He missed her flawless grammar in her text messages to him. He missed her upbeat attitude.

But most of all, Rigby missed Eileen.

He scribbled out a note to Mordecai and placed it on his nightstand. Hastily, Rigby scurried on all fours down the steps, making his way out the front door. His tail was slightly puffed up out of anxiety. By the time he got to the iron gate, he was out of breath.

Nightly shadows cast over the pavement and the brick barriers. The gate creaked as Rigby pushed it open. He didn't really consider that Eileen might of lied to set him off course somewhere, but by the time he arrived, he took notice of a glowing screen inside the Coffee Shop.

Squinting through the glass door, he made out the silhouette of small figure, slumped over the arcade game. He let out a quick gasp.

"Eileen!" Rigby shouted, hand flying for the door handle. Gaining entrance through the back way, he was surprised to see Eileen lurched over the control panel of the old PAC-MAN game. A Styrofoam cup of coffee had been knocked over the side, spilling its' dark contents along the side of thee machine. Eileen had her eyes shut; Rigby wasn't sure if she was conscious or not.

"Eileen," he said, gently nudging her side. No response. "Eileen!" Rigby shouted, jostling her shoulders.

She awoke with a start, adjusting the glasses on the brim of her nose. Eileen looked dazed, wiping some drool from her mouth. "What? Where am I?" she asked, her speech slightly slurred. "The Coffee Shop."

Eileen swerved around, confused to see Rigby standing next to her. "What are _yooou_ doing here?" she questioned, still disoriented.

"The text you sent me."

"Text?" Eileen scanned around for her phone, only to find it on the floor, soaking in a puddle of coffee. "N-no, I have to replace it again! Ugh!" She scrambled down to her knees to retrieve the broken cell phone.

Rigby frowned. "Eileen, what's wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why have you been acting weird these past few days?"

"I haven't b-"

"Yes you have! Stop being distant and talk to me!" he yelled, frustration seeping through his voice. Eileen's bloodshot eyes blinked multiple times. She had seemingly been caught off guard. For the first time that day, Eileen engaged in eye contact with him.

"Key.. I was locking up with the key," she whispered, raspy in tone. "And- oh man. I totally got hooked to this game..! I was on my break, and Margaret was chatting up Mordecai... and you weren't here for me to talk to. I hadn't played PAC-MAN in such a long time," Eileen explained, appearing somber.

"I fell so hard, I got so addicted.. every break was wasted, hunched over this dumb game. But if felt so good to beat the high score! Since Tuesday, every night when my boss would give me orders to lock up, I would stay here and try to get my score higher... and higher.. and before I knew it, it would be daylight. I drank a crap-load of coffee to keep myself standing," she moaned, placing a hand to her forehead.

"So.. you haven't slept in three whole days?! There's no way that's good for your health," Rigby told her.

"I know, I just didn't know what to do..!" Eileen staggered over to the supplies closet. "If my boss finds out I was here past closing I'll-" She ran into a table, letting out a stifled "oof" in the darkness. Eileen found her footing again. "I'll be fired," she informed him, reaching the closet door.

Rigby looked away. "Yeah, I know that feeling pretty well," he muttered. "But.. don't worry, okay! I'll help you clean up the coffee. And- you aren't thinking about driving home, right?"

Eileen began to groan. "I didn't think so. Anyways, I'm sure that Benson would be alright if you slept on the couch over at the Park House," Rigby said.

She instantly dropped the mop. "Really, Rigby?! Wow, thanks so much. I owe you biiig time."

"No big deal. Just consider it compensation for breaking your spine."

"Eh- water under the bridge. And... Rigby?"

His ear twitched slightly. "Yeah, Eileen?"

"Thanks for being worried about me."

**A/N: i know that mordecai and margaret aren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend yet, just consider this to take place after 'steak me amadeus' **


	38. Smith's Salt & Shake Crisps

**theme: smith's salt & shake crisps**

"Check them out, Eileen."

Eileen had just pinched the entrance of the plastic bag and was just preparing to shake. She looked up. "What?"

Rigby nodded over to the couch, grimace plastered to his face. Eileen directed her eyes to where Mordecai and Margaret were lying, bodies entangled, on an assortment of pale pillow cushions.

She observed Margaret, laughing uproariously, as she plucked a red grape from the coffee table and hand-fed her boyfriend.

From out the corner of her eye, Eileen noticed Rigby cringe. "That's something you'd never see me doing," he commented, not bothering to hide the disgust in his tone.

Pivoting around, he realized what Eileen was holding.

"Oh! Potato chips? Can I have some?" he asked.

She handed them across the food table. "They probably won't be the best, I haven't applied the sal-"

"Ugh! These are the worst potato chips ever! There's like, zero flavor!" Rigby exclaimed, who had already stuffed a load of the crisps into his mouth.

Eileen was mildly annoyed that he had interrupted her. "The chips are bland because I didn't apply the salt yet," she told him, gesturing for him to hand the bag over.

"...Oh. Well, it's dumb that you have to add the salt."

"That's why they're called salt and shake crisps, Rigby."

Apparently the handful of tasteless chips didn't kill his appetite. Eileen began to close of the bag, joggling it back and forth, as she watched Rigby gouge himself on a bowl full of cheese balls. She giggled.

"Leave some for the party guests, will you?" she said sarcastically. Rigby scowled, and shoveled a handful into his mouth.

The two were engulfed in silence (besides the muffled giggling of Mordecai and Margaret on the couch). Being the usual conversation-starter, Eileen smiled at him. "Thanks for inviting me over, Rigby."

Rigby licked the orange residue off his fingers and shrugged. "It was no big deal. You're kind of cool to talk to."

The mole girl's joviality erupted, but she managed to downplay it in her crush's presence. She hid the light pink tint on her cheeks.

Leaving the bag open ajar, Eileen stuck her hand in, pulling out a crisp coated in salt. She saw his mouth open and seized the opportunity.

Eileen impelled her hand forward, plonking the crisp into his mouth. Caught off guard, Rigby staggered over to the table, choking. Mordecai peeked his head up. "Dude, are you alright?!"

Rigby swallowed the chip that previously had been lodged in his throat. "Naw, I'm fine. Go back to your tongue-wrestling session with your lady." Mordecai smirked, and did as his best friend told him.

Eileen blushed, immediately regretting her forceful hand-feed. She couldn't quite look him in the eye as he turned back to her. "What was that for? Were you trying to kill me?" Rigby asked, frowning.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm an idiot sometimes.. I don't know? It was the heat of the moment I guess..." she stammered, feeling tears form at the rims of her eyes.

"Obviously you weren't thinking straight," he hissed. Rigby took a breath, about ready to scold her, but he saw the state she was in. Eileen looked like she was about to cry.

He backtracked, softening his scowl. "No, it's okay. I guess I understand. You were just showing me how good those chip-things tasted, right?" Eileen nodded along.

"And, to be honest.." he began, massaging the back of his neck. "It wasn't even that bad."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Um, you could give me more, y'know... if you want to," Rigby told her, trailing off into a mutter. Her face lit up.

"Sure!"

"Just try not to shove them into the back of my throat, okay, Eileen?"


	39. Sooty

**theme: sooty **

**(A/N: takes place during "Eggscellent")**

Her mind had been reeling with thoughts; worries propelling their way to the front. She had been to hospitals many times before.

A broken leg in fourth grade. A sickly great aunt. The birth of one of her younger cousins. But this time was different. This time, it had arose raw emotions in Eileen, some of which she couldn't fully comprehend.

Room 48c. _He's in there. Oh my lord, he's actually in there._ It was one of her friends. A guy she had worn down to actually start_ liking_ her. She jostled the doorknob, then froze- contemplating what to do.

No, it wasn't just a 'friend'. Not just a guy Eileen saw every once in a while around at work. Not just a random employee at a neighboring park.  
It was the love of her life, beyond that door; in god knows what condition.

It was Rigby.

A subtle churning erupted in the pit of her stomach. Deep down, Eileen knew that she didn't have the heart to see someone she cared for so deeply on his soon-to-be death-bed.

But she also knew she had to have some closure. To talk to him one last time. Clenching the plushy tighter in her fist, she twisted the knob and sucked in. Eileen had to be strong._ For him._

A male doctor, previously checking a bundle of papers on his clipboard, looked up at her and smiled. "Hello! I'm assuming you're a friend or relative of the patient's?"

She choked the word out. "F-friend."

His smile evaporated as he skimmed the information once more. "Unfortunately, Rigby isn't best isn't in the best condition at the moment. He fell into a coma only an hour ago," the doctor explained.

"A coma?" Her throat dried up. A slight nod in response made Eileen's heart lunge into her esophagus. She dreaded the squeamish feeling.

Rigby's doctor glanced at his watch, grimacing. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes," he sighed. "You can go ahead and see him while I'm gone."

Eileen was reluctant. Treading towards the hospital bed, she refused to look at the patient lying on it. Her heart was throbbing. She couldn't do this. She didn't want to do this.

A brief exhale blew her anxiety away as she approached Rigby, now fully aware of his state. He was half-exposed by the pale sheets, resting just below his chest. His head was tilted back; his breathing light. A monitor that recorded his heartbeat kept continuously beeping, soft in manner.

Eileen leaned down next to him, running her fingers through his fur in a soothing motion. "Oh, Rigby," she said, her voice cracking. "Why would you eat those eggs?"

An unconscious Rigby didn't supply an answer. Eileen, still holding the raged toy, stopped stroking him and presented an old, seemingly useless, gift. "This is my old Sooty bear, I had it all throughout my childhood. I know it's a little rough around the edges, but it's one of my most prized possessions. Loads of sentimental value! I really do hope you make it through this, Rigby," Eileen spoke as if he could hear her.

She sneaked the threadbare plush toy under his blanket. While the waitress was still standing over her close friend, she planted a small kiss on his forehead; somber, but sweet.

Eileen left the hospital without another word.


	40. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

**theme: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory **

"Aw, man! Why did we have to come this early, anyways?" Rigby moaned, slumped over.

"The movie doesn't start for another fifty freaking minutes!"

"Well, there's no way we could of known that, dude," Mordecai said. "Guess we're gonna have to wait this one out."

"Yeah, Rigby! Waiting for the film is nearly as fun as watching it!" Eileen included. He rolled his eyes and kept strolling behind the group. The smell of freshly-made popcorn wafted into the entryways, making his mouth water.

He put a hand over his throbbing stomach, doubled over in pain. "Mordecaiii, I need eight bucks," he whined. "I'm really hungry!"

Mordecai pulled out a fat roll of cash and shoved it in his face. "Okay, but next time, bring your own money, alright, man?" he asked, frowning.

Rigby came back, fists full of popcorn, to find both Mordecai and Margaret gone. Eileen had her nose in a paperback book, intently reading.

"Where did Mordecai go?" he questioned her, slightly agitated. "He and Margaret went to the bathroom just a minute ago," she replied, not glancing up.

"Ew, probably to swap spit or something."

Eileen shrugged. "Maybe." She flipped a page.

Rigby took a seat on the bench next to her, munching on popcorn. Bored, he gazed around, scanning posters for upcoming movies and sticking his tongue out at any little kid that passed by him. Rigby reached into his paper bag, scooping up a few kernels in his palm.

Sighing, he finally spoke to Eileen. "So, uh... where'd you get that book from?"

"I keep a spare book in my purse at all times! Good thing, too," she responded. He leaned over, hovering over her shoulder. "What is it?"

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It's a childhood favorite of mine! Would you like to read with me?" Eileen scooted the book to where it was positioned over both of their legs. Rigby's brow lowered into a scowl. He clasped his greasy hands in his lap as he inverted his gaze.

"I don't like reading."

"Suit yourself. But the book's still here if you want to join."

Rigby pouted, straightening his posture. "Yeah, yeah."

But as time elapsed, he found himself better reading than doing nothing; she did him the favor of staying at a slow pace.

**A/N: WOW sorry, really rushed drabble! but hey, there's only 40 more!**


	41. Silly Putty

**theme: silly putty**

"I can't _believe_ I trusted you guys at home for ten minutes unsupervised! I must of forgotten that someone needs to be around to babysit you slackers 24/7!"

Mordecai and Rigby, seated on the front steps of the porch, took Benson's anger head on. "Benson, chillax. It's only a stain," Rigby scoffed, wiping his fur back.

"Not that big of a deal..? Do you two_ idiots_ realize that you could of left a permanent mark on the couch?! You're lucky it can be removed!" Benson screeched. His face melted into a shade of crimson. "Now, I expect both of you to remove the stain, before I get back from my date- _**OR YOU'RE FIRED!**_"

Their boss ended his lecture with that as he stormed away to his car, steaming. Mordecai scowled at his co-worker. "Thanks for getting me in trouble, Rigby."

"It's not my fault!" Rigby jumped up in a sprightly manner.

"I told you not to play with that dumb stuff on the couch! You could of gotten me fired, dude," Mordecai told him.

Rigby's shoulders slumped in defeat. "_Uggh_. Fine, you loser. I'll get that crap off myself," he sighed, heading inside. He stuck his hand in his jacket, wiggling around; searching the pocket's contents. His hand reeled in a cell phone, along with wrinkled candy wrappers.

Rigby put his fingers to work, dialing a number. At this point, Mordecai had joined up with him in the living room. He folded his arms, curious as to what his friend was up to.

"Hey Eileen- do you know how to get rid of, uh- Silly Putty stains? Oh, cool! Lay it on me," Rigby babbled cheerfully into the phone. Hurriedly, he walked straight into the kitchen. Mordecai heard the squeaking of cabinet doors opening and shutting. "It's that easy?! Wow. That's pretty rad."

He returned to the couch with a glass salt shaker and a knife, gently spreading a few pinches of salt above the stain. Rigby chuckled. "Yeah, same here! Okay, thanks a ton, Eileen. I don't know where I'd be without you," he concluded, ending the phone call.

Rigby grinned at Mordecai. "In yo face! I totally handled the stain without your help, Mordecry. In a couple of minutes, all I have to do is scrape off the red fading parts and the stain will be gone!"

Mordecai, however, kept his smirk glued to his face. "You know, dude, you could of used the internet," he said knowingly.

Rigby's expression changed drastically. "What?"

"You could of easily looked that up on _Google._ But no, you went crawling to your girlfriend for answers," Mordecai explained.

Blushing, he sprung up off the carpet. "**STOP TALKING**! Eileen isn't my girlfriend! And I did _not_ go crawling to her, what the H, man?!"

"Whatever you say, lover-boy."


End file.
